


When Stars Collide

by Zaphrina



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, BAMF Darcy Lewis, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Slow Build, darcy is a greek goddess, very loose use of percy jackson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2018-10-31 00:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 28,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10888278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaphrina/pseuds/Zaphrina
Summary: When Darcy is actually a Greek Goddess and has to go to Earth and leave her memories on Olympus, but she meets someone strikingly familiar once she's down there.





	1. Origins

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is un-beta'd, so apologies for mistakes.  
> Also information-wise:  
> I'm thinking Darcy/Ourania is ~1,000 years old, and I'm equating that to about 10 in mortal years  
> Thor I'm imagining as 13, so maybe 1,300  
> Like is like 7, so 700. I'll explain when I do age jumps. I imagine they age slowly at like a rate of 1 year = 100 years until they get older and kinda just age so slowly that they look the same. I'll try and explain better later on.  
> Also Ourania is the muse of astronomy and is seen wearing a cloak that she embroidered with the stars in the sky so for some of the chapters I'll have inspirational outfits.

     As a young child, she couldn’t keep her eyes off the heavens. She looked out unto the stars and saw the happenings of the realms, so entranced that she often missed being called for supper or joining her eight sisters for lessons. She always felt different, though. Of her sisters, she had no affinity for music, art, poetry, or entertainment. She looked unto the heavens and her eyes tracked the alignment of the stars, following their paths and seeing how they spelled out the future. She was entranced with the night sky and constantly pestered her father about it. Zeus was a good father, and Ourania was grateful for him, even when she felt that her gifts were useless compared to her sisters’. They were muses! They were meant to inspire and entertain. She would eventually find her way. _Hopefully_ , she thought.

     “Nia!” her sister called to her. She snapped her neck to the side and gazed upon her, shaking her head as if to shed the image of the stars moving ever so slowly across the sky. “Where were you, Nia?” Thalia danced over to her and very ungracefully plopped herself on the grass next to her sister.

     “Asgard,” Ourania picked at the grass near her feet. Over a thousand years she’d been watching the stars, and she always found her way back to watching the queen of Asgard. Ourania was inspired by her kindness and loyalty, and oft found herself searching the stars to see what the woman would do next.

     “How fares the young son?” came a rumbling voice from behind them.

     “He is not a happy baby,” she looked up at her father and smiled. “But is any baby happy?”

     “No, I suppose not, though his brother is quite jovial,” he chuckled and helped the two girls stand. “You’re going to miss supper.”

     “Oh! That’s what I meant to tell you!” Thalia giggled and covered her mouth with a hand jumped up and down in her little leather boots. “Supper is served!” Thalia was second youngest of her sisters, and by far the most joyful of all of them, her realm of entertainment had always been comedy, which gave her quite an excuse to always be getting up to trouble. _They call us muses for a reason, Nia. What are they going to write about if we’re not giving them something to write about?_ That specific incident had left her uncle Hades stuck speaking in rhyme for a century. It was a trying time.

     But, as Ourania was the youngest of all of them, she felt closest with her joyous sister, who always played games with her and would ask her about the stars. She was still young, though, and would connect with her other sisters over time. After all, though humans aged rather quickly, she was still a child on Olympus.

     “Father!” Ourania was watching Asgard, again, and overheard the Lady Frigga tell her two sons that they were expecting liaisons from Olympus, and to be on their best behavior.

     “I won’t say I told you so,” she heard the smile in Hera’s voice. Usually the queen was known to not be fond of her husband’s bastards, but she found Ourania and her sisters rather amusing and treated them kindly.

     “Before you say it,” her father Zeus held out a hand as if to prevent her from barreling into the throne room, but she cut him off.

     “I have to go.” She crossed her arms over her chest. She knew her indignant stance did nothing but amuse her father. She still appeared as a Midgardian ten-year-old would, but she felt she was expressing her thoughts in the best way she could. “I have been studying the stars of Asgard for over one thousand years and still I have never seen them,” Zeus opened his mouth to silence her but she barreled on, “And how many times have you told me ‘Just look at Midgard’s stars?’ Too many. I’ve visited enough to inspire even the dastardly mortals to start looking at the stars. I’m going to Asgard.” She stood with her arms crossed over her chest. Her other aunts and uncles began to smile, and she knew she’d won them over, but it was all up to her father, he did make the rules, after all.

     “You must promise not to interfere with any of the liaising and don’t be a bother. I know you’re quite taken with their queen. Exercise restraint,” he said firmly. Ourania nodded and walked calmly out of the throne room, and waited until she had completely exited before doing a little dance around a pear tree and thanking the Fates for allowing this to happen. She found Thalia entertaining her other sisters and ran over to them.

     “I’m going to Asgard!” Ourania couldn’t contain herself anymore, she shouted it at her sisters and eight beaming smiles looked back at her. They stood in a circle for hours talking about what she would do, if she could bring them gifts back, if she would meet the young princes, what she was going to wear…

     Ourania paled.

     “What am I going to wear?” Her sisters burst into giggles and they all ran back to their rooms, looking for something appropriate for a several days stay. Ourania was sure that they would have something appropriate in Asgard for her, but she liked the traditional clothing of Olympus, it was quite comfortable. Her and her sisters all wore variations of white dresses, though it was difficult to find the right one. When they grow older, they’d be able to choose their colors, and would be able to wear that, but for now they all wore white. Her sisters ended up picking a one shouldered, floor length white shift dress that was belted with a golden cord. It was her formal wear, but it was a special occasion. Ourania twirled around the room and danced with her sisters in her joy, even if she wasn’t good at it. They all sang and Euterpe played her flute and they danced into the night when the stars came out and Ourania was drawn outside to gaze at them. Midgard’s moon was especially bright on that night, a full moon. She smiled at it and turned when her father approached.

     “We leave for Asgard now.”

     “At night?” Ourania frowned, looking back at the stars and getting lost in their movements.

     “You know I can tell when you’re not paying attention to me,” Zeus standing with his hands on his hips was a funny sight, but his daughter sighed and nodded.

     “I know, my eyes change to look like the sky,” she nodded sagely, she’d gotten in trouble many a time, but the sky was so interesting! Even in daylight she would catch glimpses of stars too bright to be outshone.

     “Well, come on let’s go,” her father held out his hand, and she took it, letting him lead her to where Athena was waiting. She was their best strategist, and would be a great help in coming to a peace treaty. Hera was also joining, as the Queen it was expected for her to be present, and she was old friends with Queen Frigga.

     “Ah, Nia, I’m so happy you could join us,” Hera smiled at her and petted her hair. “And you look so pretty, did your sisters help you pick that out?” Ourania nodded shyly at the older woman and did a little twirl to show off her dress. “Beautiful. Now, hold my hand, it might be a bumpy ride for your first time,” Ourania obligingly held on to her hand as well and waited for the rainbow bridge to open.

     “Heimdall, open the Bifrost.” Her father commanded, and it was as if a beam of light came down from the sky and sucked them into a wormhole filled with colors and lights. Ourania tried to look into it as if it were stars but it made her stomach turn to try and focus on one when everything was moving so fast, and she spent the next few seconds swallowing down nausea until they landed (thankfully on their feet) in a large golden room filled with people. At the center was a tall man dressed all in gold holding a sword with glowing gold eyes. Ourania shifted the little tiara on her head (it was forged by Hephaestus and resembles stars all connected) and tugged on her father’s hand until he looked down at her with apprehension.

     “Is that the gatekeeper?” She whispered up to him, she put her hand in front of her mouth to be more discreet. He nodded. “He can see the stars?” He nodded again. Ourania lit up with a smile and tore away from her guardians, leaping towards Heimdall. “Can you tell me about your stars? I’ve seen them before but never in person. I’m really fascinated with your constellations, they’re completely different from the star formations on Olympus and Midgard,” Ourania beamed up at the stone-faced man who turned his face to look down at her and gave her the tiniest smile.

     “Ourania, we’re guests here. Come here,” her father’s voice held no anger, but she felt as if her dreams had been torn away anyway. She pushed those feelings down and turned back to her family, only then noticing that King Odin and Lady Frigga were there as well, with several other diplomats.

     “Zeus, this is your daughter?” Odin spoke with a hint of amusement in his voice.

     “Yes, this is Princess Ourania, muse of astronomy,” Odin looked at her and she smiled and did the curtsy her mother taught her ages ago and the king smiled.

     “I’m sure she won’t enjoy the political talk, she’s welcome to examine these stars with Heimdall, though I should think she’ll be ready for bed soon?” As he said it, she stifled a yawn and smiled sheepishly. The night sky usually made her feel awake, but she’d spent the whole day celebrating. “I’ll send one of my sons to fetch her later,” Zeus agreed and sent a smile at her and a ‘be good’ before the party started along the rainbow bridge.

     “So,” Ourania looked up at the enormous gatekeeper, “What is it that you do?” Heimdall smiled and sat down on the stair next to her.

     “I see all.” She squinted at him. Was it supposed to be mysterious?

     “Yeah but like, what all? Because I can see all the stars, and I can find some people, but what do you mean by ‘all?’” She spoke with her hands and he chuckled a little at her.

     “Everything that happens in all of the realms I can see. I saw your one thousandth birthday celebration, I saw the beginning of astronomy on Midgard, I see all that happens to every person at the present time at which it happens,” he smiled and told her of all of the battles he’d seen and the colony on Midgard that was using the stars to create a calendar, how they based their rituals on the movement of the sun and moon.

     It was hours later when Thor and Loki were sent to find the little Princess. They were allowed to stay up late because the Bifrost only opened to Olympus at night, _though I don’t know why, that seems very inconvenient_ , Thor thought. They stayed for the beginnings of the negotiations and then were sent to find the girl who came with.

     “Why do you think they brought a girl along?” Loki was still very little and for a while, Thor carried him on his shoulders for the long walk.

     “Father said that she wanted to ask Heimdall about the stars,” Thor said absentmindedly, he was more interested in the Olympian warfare, all their stories showed that if they went through some mysterious trial, they would never have to wear armor into battle, which seemed very nice to Thor. His armor never fit quite right.

     Thor took his brother off his shoulders once Heimdall came into view and they walked side by side. He could see the young girl ahead, speaking excitedly with the gatekeeper and gesturing wildly. She was younger than him, but older than Loki, and wore a flowing white gown and a golden crown that looked like a bunch of stars. He liked the crown, but the dress seemed impractical.

     “My princes, good evening,” Heimdall nodded at them and the brothers stopped at the foot of the stairs. “Princess, it’s time to retire,” she nodded up at him and turned to the two boys, smiling even though she was tired. She was pretty, Thor supposed. She was very pale and had long dark hair and bright blue eyes. She practically skipped down the stairs to meet them.

     “Hello, you must be Thor,” she looked at the blonde and then at the darker haired smaller one and smiled at them both, “and you must be Loki. I’m Ourania, but most people find that to be too long and just call me Nia,” she smiled and took both boys elbows on either side and steered them down the bridge. “Goodbye Heimdall!” She called over her shoulder, and the gatekeeper nodded at her before she turned around again.

     “You’re very awake for it to be so late,” Loki yawned and looked up at her smiling face.

     “I usually stay awake at night to watch the stars and sleep in the early morning.”

     “That’s odd,” Thor replied, looking down at her a little strangely.

     “Is it odd that Heimdall stands there all day looking at the stars?” She asked indignantly.

     “Well, no, but he was born with the Sight, so he has to,” Thor shrugged, and Ourania dropped their elbows.

     “Well I was born being able to see out into the universe and it’s easiest to see at night, so that’s when I do it,” she shrugged and walked next to him again as he easily lifted his little brother onto his shoulders, who began to drift off immediately.

     “That does make sense,” he pressed his lips together and shrugged. This is not how she expected her first meeting with the boys to go, considering she watched them frequently, but she knew Thor didn’t have a way with words, and wasn’t offended. She knew that he liked battles though, and asked how his training was, and what it was like, she did some training herself and offered to compare Asgardian and Olympian fighting styles, to which he smiled broadly and began telling her all about Asgardian warfare. _That’s more like it_ , she thought.


	2. Asgard's Gardens

     “You mean to tell me that you wear boots into battle?” Ourania was playing chess with young Loki the next morning, but was also keeping Thor occupied with conversations of battle. _That’s why Loki has beaten me three out of five games today,_ she thought, _I’m distracted by talking to Thor._

     “Well what else should I wear? They’re comfortable, they’re insulated, and they protect the feet,” he shrugged and continued lounging sideways across the plush chair he sat in while he watched them play.

     “Sandals- Aha! Checkmate!” Ourania beamed as she moved her queen into position and cornered Loki’s king. The young boy smiled good naturedly and the two scholars shook hands.

     “We have a tie, what…” Loki was cut off by Thor’s unruly laughter.

     “Sandals? How could you do battle in sandals?” Ourania rose so quickly she nearly knocked over her chair in an effort to look more intimidating. She crossed her arms over her chest and rose a delicate eyebrow at the dumb oaf.

     “They’re more freeing, they allow for more movement, and they’re better for walking long distances. What, are you afraid of getting a little dirt on your feet?” She was fuming, she knew her father told her not to be a bother but the prince was insulting their culture! She could beat him in hand to hand combat barefoot! _Maybe not,_ the little voice inside her said, _you’ve only been trained in hand to hand for a couple hundred years, he’s older and stronger_. Ourania shifted from foot to foot to alleviate some of the adrenaline rushing through her.

     Thor practically erupted from the chair, facing off with the tiny astronomer and putting his hands on his hips as well. Loki was nowhere to be seen and Ourania was ten seconds from screaming at him.

     “Is that a challenge?” The both of them were shaking in fury, but both felt a little sliver of excitement. The politics were so boring; they might be able to spar and do something fun for once. Thor had never fought a girl before and had heard that the Olympians trained their sons and daughters equally.

     “Maybe it is,” she stomped her foot and glared at him. “I bet I could beat you even without sandals,” she said before she thought about it. _That was meant to be inside my head, oh boy. Father is not going to be pleased._

     “That’s definitely a challenge.” They were eyeing each other when scurrying footsteps came back to them and drew their attention. Loki had returned with Frigga, Thor likely wouldn’t be happy about his little brother telling on them, but Ourania was pleased. She didn’t want to have to ruin her formal attire to spar with Thor.

     “I heard that you and Loki have a draw in chess, Ourania. How shall we settle it?” Frigga smiled down at her and the issue was forgotten, and she knew the Queen wouldn’t tell either of their fathers what had happened.

     “I think you should break the tie in combat” Thor said, _still eager to fight_ , Ourania thought, though Frigga only smiled softly.

     “Perhaps next time we see the little Princess you’ll all be old enough to spar together, but for now, how about we take a break to have tea and you can play one last chess game later to see who wins. Ourania nodded and Frigga led them to the library for tea. They forgot all about the tie by dinner and she was even making jokes with Thor and Loki by dessert.

     Night fell and Ourania wandered the palace grounds in a pair of trousers and a plain sleeping top that were given to her to wear during her stay. She curled her feet into the cool soil and wiggled her toes into it while she gazed straight up into the sky. At Olympus, her sisters were all getting ready for bed and bustling around, she missed Thalia.

     That’s how Frigga and Loki found her on their nightly walk through the gardens. Her feet were buried in the soil, her arms hung to her sides and her eyes were all black with stars, looking like Asgard’s night sky. They would come out at night to practice wielding magic, and on this night they did the same, though they did it in shouting distance of Ourania to make sure she was doing alright.

     When Ourania closed her eyes to the stars and wiggled her feet out of the dirt, she looked around and saw mother and son practicing nearby, and went over to them.

     “Good evening,” Ourania exhaled, experiencing the stars always left her feeling at peace and she didn’t want to disturb the feeling.

     “Good evening, little one,” Queen Frigga kept the same quiet voice as she continued making hand gestures for her son to follow.

     “Might I sit by you as I watch the stars?”

     “Of course, dear, we’ll be right here,” she smiled at Ourania and the young girl nodded, got comfortable laying on her back on the ground with her hands behind her head and opened her eyes, letting them widen and reflect the night sky as she peered in upon the intricacies of planetary movement and sometimes catch glimpses of lives of strangers.

     Soon she would be able to tell the future by the alignment of the stars, but her power was young and she could only look on as people lived their lives in the present.

     Hours later when Frigga and Loki finished, Ourania hadn’t moved, but her eyes drifted shut and she’d fallen asleep.

     “Go on,” she whispered to her son. “I’ll bring her to bed,” she smiled and gently lifted her into her arms and walked with her to her rooms and laid her in bed. Frigga smiled down at her before exiting. She had a beautiful mind and a wild spirit, and Frigga was quite fond of her. She would miss her when the Olympians left on the next day, though she felt that she would see her again.

     Ourania woke in her bed, though covered in dirt, and found that one of the Asgardian servants had drawn her a bath. After she cleaned herself and dressed in her formal clothes again, she went to find her father and found Loki and Thor on their way to the throne room as well.

     “I will miss you two,” she smiled and drew them both into tight hugs. “We are going to spar next time I come,” she directed at Thor, and to Loki she said: “And we are going to play another game of chess to break our tie,” she kissed them both on their cheeks and dragged them along to the throne room where she joined her father, Hera, and Athena again.

     The walk back down the rainbow bridge was not as interesting as the walk up it the first time, and the travel by Bifrost was not nearly as nauseating when she reminded herself not to try and look at it too hard.

     “Thalia!” she was waiting for her at the Bifrost travel site and before she hugged her sister she turned to her father with a curious look on her face and her index finger pointed at him as she made a realization. “You said that Olympus only accepts Bifrost at night,” he smiled coyly.

     “I lied,” Ourania’s gasp was loud and dramatic as her father laughed at her.

     “Rude!” she shoved his arm and stuck her tongue at him before scampering off with her sister back to their rooms.

     “I can’t believe you fell for that,” was that last thing Thalia said before Ourania gasped again and pushed her into a puddle on the ground. Thalia started laughing and pulled Ourania down as well, and when they got back to their rooms covered in mud, their sisters laughed too. Thalia’s comedy was sometimes unusual but always got them going.

     She did miss Loki and Thor, though.


	3. Midnight Blue vs. Twilight Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have some images I want to use as references for this because there's a time jump in the middle of the chapter. I'll link them in, but I'll also put them in the notes at the end.  
> For reference in the 1st half of the chapter:  
> Ourania/Darcy is the same age as she was in the previous chapter  
> For the 2nd half:  
> Ourania/Darcy is like 1,600 which I'm equating to 16  
> Loki would be 13  
> Thor would be 1,900 but at that point he'd be aging much slower and I would estimate 17 or 18
> 
> Also Μοῦσαι is ancient Greek for the Muses.

     Ourania awoke before her sisters, as she often did, and stretched her arms to loosen up her shoulders from all the hunching over a chess table she’d done the previous days. The room she shared with her sisters was large and open, and had nine beds and nine dressers to accommodate them. They were offered new lodging, but they made a consensus to stay together. Because they occasionally made trips to Midgard to help the humans along, it was easier to make their specific plans in their room so everyone could look over it at the same time so that when they made trips, they wouldn’t be too noticeable to the mortals.

     On this morning, Ourania donned a white shift dress and walked along the path to the training grounds. The sky was beginning to turn pink and yellow with the rising of the sun. The stars were fading out but some still shone, and Ourania always liked those. It felt like they were watching over her, even when the stars were supposed to be hidden away. She only looked down from the sky when her bare feet were walking on grass instead of stone, and she went over to her father who was practicing with some of his sons.

     “Father,” Ourania called out to him, toeing the grass as she waited. She grew more impatient as the sun rose higher and the dew evaporated from the grass. By the time he made his way over to her, her toes were completely dry of condensation and the morning fog had lifted.

     “Nia, what brought you here on this morn?” She jostled as he clapped a hand on her back and righted herself with a _harrumph_ and a look in his direction.

     “I wondered about Asgard,” she began, “You said you were liaising with them, but for what? I’m afraid to say I didn’t pay attention to any of the politics,” she looked over at him as they walked. Something was bothering him, but he wouldn’t say it. She knew he was happy with the negotiations, he’d been ecstatic when they left, and didn’t know what could be causing his unrest. His jaw was so slightly clenched and his brows drawn down.

     “A peace treaty,” he grunted. “We’ve been at peace for many years because we had a common enemy, but the enemy has been defeated by another force and both of our realms are strong, we would do more damage than good to fight,” he glanced at her quickly before looking away again, he didn’t appreciate having to talk to his young children about their enemies. “We’re planning to come to terms of peace by tying our royal families together,” he added.

     “A wedding?” Ourania perked up and looked at him with wide eyes. “I love weddings!” She was imagining one of Zeus and Hera’s two daughters in a beautiful gown with a tiara and flowers and they could live in Asgard’s beautiful golden palace or in Mount Olympus’ white-pillared halls. It would be beautiful and all Asgard and Olympus would be there to see it and-

     “Yes, Prince Thor will marry one of my daughters,” he continued. _Prince Thor?_ She thought. _He’s so young. And aggressive. But he is the crown prince, it makes sense._

     “Who?” He looked at her from the corner of his eye, noticing her downturned eyebrows and tense hands.

     “Likely one of my little _Μοῦσαι_ ,” he smiled softly at her, anticipating the indignant, inelegant snort his youngest immortal daughter responded with.

     “One of the muses? To the prince of Asgard? Preposterous!” Ourania crossed her arms over her chest. Her father was in one of his joking moods, thinking he could make bastards into princesses and queens. “Why not Hebe? Or Eileithyia?” She didn’t understand Zeus’ immediate laughter.

     “Hebe? You know I have love for all my children in my heart, but Hebe is our cup-bearer. I cannot offer the Prince of Asgard a cup-bearer. That’s preposterous,” he shook his head. His daughters with Hera were not suitable for the prince.

     “And Eileithyia?” Ourania questioned, one eyebrow raised at the man.

     “Eileithyia cannot leave Olympus,” her father replied with a pained face. “She is our most skilled midwife and blesses all births on Olympus, without her, we cannot be sure that any Olympian births will succeed.” _Tragic,_ Ourania thought. The man had two legitimate daughters and both were servants of the realm. She told him so and he rolled his eyes.

     “Everyone here has a purpose.”

     “But not the muses?”

     “Everyone here has a purpose. The purpose of my muses can be filled on any realm.” _That’s very convenient,_ she thought. At that time, they’d circled back around to the training field. Zeus patted Ourania on the back and urged her to practice her sword-fighting, she needed her left hand to be as good as her right and wasn’t practicing enough. When she scampered away he heaved a deep sigh. He knew he had to choose one of his _Μοῦσαι_ to marry the prince, but that’s as far as their meeting took them. King Odin declared he needed time ( _likely several hundred years,_ he thought) to pick one of Zeus’ nine daughters for his son. Queen Frigga had sent him a reassuring look, but he didn’t know what for. He was uncharacteristically upset by the proceedings.

* * *

 

     It was a long time before Ourania got to visit Asgard again, and on this visit her sisters had to go as well. They all had to meet King Odin. He’d thought over her and her sisters for six hundred years and only after had he asked to meet them all in person. Not much changed for Ourania in those years. She continued to watch Loki, Thor, and Frigga through the stars. She was beginning to read the stars and tell the future, but only very slightly. She could tell before Thalia was going to prank her, but not much else. Ourania was growing a dry sense of humor from dealing with her “funny” sister and her father’s incessant jokes that always fell flat. She also had perfected sparring both left and right-handed. But she was more excited because she could finally get her color and emblem. Her sisters had all chosen their colors and were gifted tokens to represent them and focus their magic, and on the day before their travels, it was Ourania’s turn.

     She had to meet with a tailor before the token ceremony to fit her a dress in her chosen color.

     “I want a gown the color of the night sky,” she told the woman who was standing in front of her taking her measurements.

     “At twilight or midnight?”

     “Midnight.” Ourania thought of the stars shining in the deepest blue sky she’d ever seen, and knew that there was no other for her. She wanted people to remember her as the one who taught them how to read the stars and learn from them.

     There she stood for hours as the seamstress poked at her, cut fabric, and sewed at a speed unlike anything a human could do. Olympians were gifted in many ways, and Ourania was greatly appreciative of the seemingly unusual gift of speed-sewing.

    At the end of the day she had a gown of opaque and sheer midnight blue layers that was quite reminiscent of the night sky. She thanked the tailor and left with it, though something wasn’t right. She didn’t know but she couldn’t wear it as it was. Night darkened and Ourania sat on the grass in front of the throne room and gazed at the sky. The stars came out after a long while, and she let her eyes focus on them. She wanted to look like the night sky, and as she formed that thought, she lifted one hand and reached towards the sky as if to hold onto the stars. It felt like she was grasping onto something as well. She looked down into her hands and saw the needle and thread she felt gripped in her thumb and forefinger that glowed white like starlight, and had a wonderful, beautiful, exciting thought, and got to work.

     She sat on the grass until dawn broke embroidering her midnight blue gown with starlight until her fingertips were bruised. Her magic must have known when she finished because the glowing thread and needle disappeared. Too tired to do much else, she hurried to her home to sleep for a few hours until she would get her emblem, and then they would leave for Asgard.

     Her sleep was broken by a shouted: “Nia! Get up!” from Thalia.

     “I’m up!” Ourania jerked into a sitting position and looked frantically around the room at all her sisters in their jewel toned dresses and little tiaras getting ready for her ceremony. “Oh. Oh!” She jumped out of bed and tore through the room to get ready. By the time she put on her [dress](http://picture-cdn.wheretoget.it/y02sfz-l-610x610-dress-night+sky+stars-elie+saab-galaxy+dress-designer+dress.jpg), she was the last one there, and she rushed outside. Her sisters and her father were there standing in a semicircle in front of the house.

     “Ourania, Daughter of Zeus, Princess of Olympus, Muse of Astronomy, on this day I gift to you a [globe](http://www.goddessaday.com/images/urania.jpg) to focus your magic and teach to others the ways of the stars,” In his hands appeared a small globe and staff of metal. She gingerly took them from his hands and felt a sort of mental focus.

     “Thank you,” she whispered and looked up at her smiling father.

     “And, although I know you already wear it, I feel I should bestow upon you your crown,” he smiled softly and placed her [tiara](https://68.media.tumblr.com/41fe2f98a51d48ba1e355ef52056d0b4/tumblr_nvxfdmlFFy1ttn4pio1_500.jpg) atop her head. “Now, we’re already to go to Asgard. Heimdall, open the Bifrost.”

     The trip wasn’t nearly as bad when this time. But this time Thor was with his parents when they arrived, and he looked very different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Links:  
> This is how I imagine Ourania's hair would look, but longer (and also not in her twenties pls she's like 16)  
> http://hdwallpaperbackgrounds.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/Kat-Dennings-Pictures-1280x1794.jpg  
> This is the tiara  
> https://68.media.tumblr.com/41fe2f98a51d48ba1e355ef52056d0b4/tumblr_nvxfdmlFFy1ttn4pio1_500.jpg  
> This is the dress  
> http://picture-cdn.wheretoget.it/y02sfz-l-610x610-dress-night+sky+stars-elie+saab-galaxy+dress-designer+dress.jpg  
> An image of Ourania with her globe and staff:  
> http://www.goddessaday.com/images/urania.jpg  
> Good? Good.


	4. Asgardian Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little short, but I plan on writing more tonight.  
> On the bright side, I learned to knit today!

     Prince Thor looked different than the last time Ourania had seen him. His hair was long and he’d grown so tall and muscular. A red cape was draped across his broad shoulders, and his smile shone like the stars. He looked like the most pompous rocks-for-brains prince she’d ever seen. And she’d met Narcissus. Other than becoming infinitely more attractive, Ourania was sure that everything else (including his attitude and demeanor) went unchanged since they’d met as children. Where even was Loki? Ourania wished to speak with the younger prince. They had a chess game to play.

     “King Odin, Queen Frigga, Prince Thor, these are my daughters: The Muses. My eldest: Calliope, the inspiration for heroic poetry and art,” her oldest sister curtsied and smiled at the family. “Clio, the muse of history and the guitar,” as he went down the line, his sisters would curtsy or bow their heads: “Euterpe, musical instruments and language. Thalia, of comedy. Melpomene, of tragedy. Terpsichore, of dance and education. Erato, or love and love poetry. Polymnia, of divine poetry and art. And my youngest, though you’ve already met Ourania, the muse of astronomy and protector of stars,” Ourania curtsied like her sisters before smiling and waving. Frigga smiled gently back at her.

     Ourania was happy to join the others for a tour if she could go find Loki after. The others wouldn’t mind, they were all positive that Calliope, the eldest and superior muse would gain the favor of King Odin to wed his son to. She was followed by many mortals when she alighted upon the Earth, and would make a most suitable, kind, and powerful wife.

     So, when Zeus and the Asgardian royal family were distracted with conversation, Ourania slipped behind a heavy curtain and waited for them to walk out of hearing distance. Peeking around the edge of the fabric confirmed their distance, and Ourania started towards the library. If Loki wasn’t there, he’d likely be in his room. When she peered at them through the stars, he was usually reading or occasionally practicing magic in his room. The grand entrance to the library did show that Loki was, in fact, reading.

     “Loki!” He practically leapt out of his seat and flung his old-looking tome at her, but she’d seen that coming, and ducked. _Must have surprised him._ “Not as enthusiastic as I’d have expected, but I’ll take it,” Ourania smiled and giggled at the young prince’s exasperated sigh and haphazard appearance.

     “Princess,” he sneered. _Well that’s unexpected_.

     “Prince,” Ourania raised an eyebrow. “If you’re going to be a sourpuss I’ll have to go find Thor and fight him for fun.” She was glad Loki still had a sense of humor, and he smiled a little, giving his face the light it needed.

     “I might have to let you do that,” he smirked and Ourania at once became aware of the deep timbre of his voice and how he was, like Thor, much taller than her. Unlike Thor, he looked much leaner, though still muscular.

     “I wouldn’t want to embarrass him too much, he does have to marry one of my sisters,” she shrugged and Loki looked at her with a wrinkle between his eyes.

     “He could marry you,” Ourania snorted and rolled her eyes at _that_ particular idea.

     “Me? I’m youngest and I have zero entertaining talent. Very funny. Now, I must beat you in chess. Athena has been giving me lessons in strategy,” Loki raised an eyebrow like: _I think you’re off your rocker, but I’ll concede_. He led her to a glass chess table and proceeded to school her in chess, though he did admit that she lasted a lot longer than he expected, before declaring checkmate and beating her once and for all.

     “Mother will be pleased we settled our tie without violence,” Loki smirked and set the chessboard back into its neutral position. “Shall we meet with the others for lunch?” He offered his elbow (much higher than hers, but she took it anyway) and led her out into the gardens, where he mentioned they were scheduled to have tea.

     “Ourania! Where have you been?” Her father (and sisters and royal family) stood at the opposite entrance to the garden sitting area and lowered his brows disapprovingly at her.

     “If I may,” Loki interjected, much to Thor’s confusion. _He must not have seen him, likely wooing one of my sisters_. Though when she looked, his eyes were on her. “I stopped Ourania to play a game of chess. She’s already seen the palace and didn’t need another tour,” the lie came out of Loki’s mouth, smooth as ambrosia and not one person questioned him. It was close to the truth, and wasn’t Athena always telling her that the best ruses are based in truth? That was why the mortals saw them as their “gods.” They were far superior and had abilities, it made sense.

      “We never even saw you,” Thalia raised an eyebrow at him, and Loki shrugged noncommittedly at her. Zeus seemed to take that answer and the fourteen of them sat down for tea. Ourania sat between Loki and Thalia, who leaned over to whisper in her sister’s ear.

     “Father was furious that you’d gone. Frigga, Odin, and Thor each asked about your whereabouts at different times,” Thalia waggled her eyebrows and pulled her lips into a silly close-lipped smile. Ourania didn’t know what her sister was implying, but it was surely a joke.

     “We were playing chess!” Ourania hissed into her sister’s ear and the other giggled behind her hand.

     “And you came in here on our collective betrothed’s brother’s arm after a game of chess?” Thalia’s dumb smile came back and mirth glowed in her eyes. Trust Thalia to turn anything into something to joke about.

     “We each won three games of chess on my last visit, we wanted to break the tie.”

     “I’m sure that’s not _all_ you wanted?” Thalia’s laughing eyes bored into Ourania’s and the youngest sister adjusted her blue dress before looking back at the tea table, only to meet her father’s stormy gray eyes looking down at her. She choked on her tea and Loki, _likely having heard the entire conversation_ , gingerly took her teacup and set it down to pat her gently on the back and offer her a handkerchief.

     “Thank you,” she whispered weakly at Loki while she made confused eye contact with her father, who narrowed his eyes at her. Ourania sighed and drank her tea. She knew they would be there for a while, so when she looked down into her tea and her eyelids were half closed, she focused on the stars, hoping nobody would notice the shift in her eye color. Asgard’s constellations were large and bright, and so were Midgard’s. She watched as a star formed and read the alignment to conclude that Thalia was about to play a prank on her. Snapping out of her pseudo-trance, Ourania grasped Thalia’s wrist just as her traitorous sister went to pour a handful of salt she’d somehow hidden into her tea.

     “Don’t. Even. Think. About. It.” Ourania rolled the two wrist bones together and Thalia’s gasp was accompanied by the automatic opening of her hand. The salt dropped all over her tea sandwiches.

     “You know,” her sister grumbled, “it’s really annoying that you can see the future.” Loki burst out laughing and that startled everyone else enough into joining in. Laughter filled the air and Thalia, only after brushing off her sandwiches, joined in laughing too. That’s what Ourania loved about her sister. Even when her pranks went wrong, she could always laugh at herself.


	5. Magic Hangover

     “That is so unfair!” Ourania cocked her hip and stared down her father. It was their first evening in Asgard and she was one hundred percent ready to throw a tantrum.

     “All of your sisters have to do it.” Zeus sighed and sat down on the chaise in his youngest daughter’s room. He knew what was coming, and would usually just let Nia have her own way, but Thor had insisted. No matter his own status as king, he couldn’t refuse his hosts.

     “Oh,” she pulled the word out long and threw her hands up in the air. Tantrum time. “All of my sisters have to go on little blind dates with the Crown Prince so I have to, too?” She laughed haughtily and turned her back on him, letting her gown _whoosh_ behind her. _Very dramatic,_ she thought, _like this preposterous date idea._

    “Well actually-”

     “Eh!” she grunted.

     “Nia-”

     “Gah!” She yelled at him and pointed with her finger. With a soul-deep sigh, he waved his hand for her to continue. “Now, I know what you’re thinking,” she put on a deep gravelly voice and imitated her father. “All of your sisters have to do this because the prince needs to know his betrothed before he picks his betrothed,” she returned to her own voice. “Which doesn’t even make sense and breaks the point of arranged marriage and betrothal. And for my second point: I already know him. And frankly, one meeting was enough. Sit!” She shouted when he stood up to reprimand her. _This whole thing is, frankly, insulting because we all know he’s going to pick Calliope._ “Third: I haven’t been here in a very long time and I demand to watch the stars tonight,” she then stood on one of the ‘power poses’ she saw the demigods doing ( _looking at you Heracles_ ) to seem more confident and get her way. Feet shoulder-width apart, chest proud, hands on hips, eyes open.

     “Good try,” she sagged, she was so sure that would work. “That would usually work,” _knew it_. “But, Prince Thor has asked to see you first and you’ll be fine. You’ll be outside so you can look at the stars. He’ll be here at sundown,” and with that, he left a pouting Ourania behind.

     “You should keep your voice down,” a voice from behind Ourania startled her into yelping in a very unladylike manner and whipping around to see her intruder. She recognized the voice and the face when she saw it, but whipping around in a gown with a train threw Ourania off balance enough to catapult her with arms flailing about onto the ground.

     “Oof!” She grunted. It wasn’t the ground that caught her, but Loki. When he righted her, and returned to his position reclining against the wall (signature smirk in place,) Ourania narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

     “I could hear you from the hallway.” Rolled eyes and smirks were beginning to be customary coming from Loki, and she tried not to be annoyed.

     “So you, what, did you teleport?” one corner of his mouth turned up. “So you teleported into my room?” A one shoulder shrug answered her.

     “Why are you questioning me?”

     “Well because-”

     “Sundown is in several minutes.”

     “Why is that relev-”

     “Thor will be here soon,” he rolled his eyes again, though without the smirk it was less endearing. With that, he teleported away and Ourania scrambled around her room.

     _What am I going to wear? What am I going to wear! Wait, I’m already in an evening gown. I look amazing. Why do I care? It’s Thor. I don’t need to impress him. He’s going to be my future brother-in-law. Well, not like that’s stopped any of my cousins, siblings, or parents. May as well dress to impress._ She chuckled at her own joke but choked when there was a knock on the door. Surely Loki couldn’t read minds. The Olympians were quite… sexually liberated… one could say, and most other realms didn’t agree with their ‘loose morals.’ But no, Loki wouldn’t knock. It must be Thor. Ourania frantically petted down her hair and pinched her cheeks to give them some color.

     “Enter,” she called as she flung herself (hopefully gracefully) onto the fainting couch and crossed her ankles. She was right, Thor stood in the doorway, sans cape, and smiling at her. She unconsciously returned his smile, he was quite handsome- _No. Do not get attached. He’s most likely marrying Calliope. Remember? Eldest and superior Muse?_

     “My Lady,” he bowed at the waist and took her extended hand to help her to her feet.

     “My Prince,” maybe she said it slightly more sarcastic than he had, but he took it in stride and, when she hooked her elbow around his, whisked her away to the gardens.

     “Thalia said you might like to spend time outside,” Thor released her arm when they came upon a stone bench surrounded by leafy plants that had a clear view of the sky. Though she was impressed that he asked what she liked to do, she still didn’t want to be there with him.

     “I do, I spend most of my time outside,” Ourania nodded and smiled in the cool night air. Even this little getting-to-know-you date couldn’t dampen the feeling the night gave her.

     “What is it the stars tell you?” She looked at him. Searched his eyes for lies. Had Thalia told him this, too? Was he just asking a simple question? Perhaps it was the thrill of the night that gave her the incentive to share her abilities with him, because she certainly wouldn’t do it otherwise.

     “They do not speak,” she elaborated. “I read them.”

     “How so?” Ourania was positive that Prince Thor was not always so inquisitive. Perhaps Thalia also told him to ask about her instead of always talking about battles. Though, it would be nice to talk to somebody about it who wasn’t related to her.

     “The alignment. Each realm has their own stars and constellations, and each constellation conveys different meaning,” she was going to try something she’d never done before. She held Thor’s hand in hers and let her eyes focus on Midgard. “Can you see it?”

     “Yes,” he gasped. She was showing him what she saw, though it gave her an ache in her head that begged her to stop.

     “This is Midgard’s night sky. That is Orion, named after a hunter born _allegedly_ of my uncle and a gorgon. Mother Earth was angry that he would kill her creatures, and she tried to kill him. The constellation is the image of him wielding a club and a shield to protect himself. Through him I can see the goings on of Midgard’s hunters and warriors.” She pulled him to another piece of the night sky. “This, is Cassiopeia. She was a queen on Midgard who thought she was more beautiful than Aphrodite, which is impossible. The very nature of Aphrodite is that she appears as the most beautiful thing the viewer could imagine.”

     “Beauty really is in the eye of the beholder,” Thor murmured and gripped her hand tighter.

     “Anyway, wait. I’ve told that wrong,” Ourania dropped the prince’s hand and stood, focusing on the ground. “Can’t even get the stars right.” She looked over at Thor apologetically. “Apologies, sharing my vision with you confused me.”

     “I would thank you for the honor of seeing what you see either way,” he urged and smiled at her. “Can you tell me about Cassiopeia anyway?” Ourania bit her lip and nodded. _Don’t let him charm you. It’s not worth the eventual heartbreak._

“So Cassiopeia told everyone that her and her daughter Andromeda were more beautiful than the nymphs and nereids. These are both creatures of Poseidon and he was angry. He bound her to a chair as she circled the north pole forever. Through her stars I can see sinners. I often use Cassiopeia because anyone could be considered a sinner, and it’s very easy to judge,” she shrugged. It felt like she was baring her soul to this brash warrior.

     “What happened to her daughter?” Thor was enthralled, even if he could not see the stars anymore.

     “Poseidon chained her to a rock to be eaten by a sea creature for all eternity. Through her I see prisoners of mind and body,” Ourania shrugged. “I’m sorry my prince, I feel very drained from this. I must retire,” she croaked and turned away.

     “Perhaps we can speak again on the morrow for tea?”

     “Yes, yes,” she murmured before running back to her rooms.

     Lying in bed with hands shaking was not where Ourania planned to be or what she planned to be doing, but she was too shaken to search the skies. She’d spilled some of her secrets and probably bored the Crown Prince to death with dumb Midgardian stories. What little hope she had to impress him was over, though for some reason she did agree to see him for tea. She wasn’t sure how that would go.

     “You shouldn’t sleep in your eveningwear,” Loki said from her chaise.

     “Technically, I wore it all day,” she pointed out. She didn’t look over at him or acknowledge him in any way other than speaking. She felt so bone tired from sharing her sight with Thor, she could barely blink her eyelids.

     “Are you alright? A night out with my brother really tire you out?” She couldn’t appreciate the humor or sarcasm in her state and simply huffed a breath at him.

     “Fine.” She lost the battle with her eyelids, but stayed awake.

     “You know it’s rude to fall asleep when you have guests.”

     “This is your home,” she could barely open her lips to mumble the words. “And I’m not asleep.” It was as if her lips were glued together.

     “Ourania?” _I don’t think he’s ever said my name before_. Footsteps approached her and a cold finger lifted her eyelid, though she couldn’t focus on Loki’s face. He let it close again and reached for her wrist to check her pulse. “Are you alright?” _Is that genuine worry? He doesn’t seem capable of it anymore. That’s surprising._

     “Used magic,” she tried, but her lips wouldn’t move.

     “Okay. I’m going to get my mother.”

     “NO!” the vowel got out, even if it was mangled.

     “Ourania,” he pleaded.

     “I used too much magic,” she barely managed the words, but apparently, Loki understood.

     “Magic hangover. Alright, I’m going to stay here until you fall asleep and if you’re not at breakfast, I’m coming looking for you.”

     _And in an interesting new plot twist, Loki does have a heart. Not funny, Nia.  But! No. Loki is a good person and doesn’t deserve your ire. I know, he’s being very kind right now…_

_I’m talking to myself. Not even that, I’m thinking to myself in two different voices. I need to sleep._


	6. Sandals vs Boots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have another dress inspiration for this chapter I've linked in the story, but if it doesn't work, I'll add the URL later on.

     Ourania yawned and stretched. Sunlight streamed through the windows and she could hear and feel the wind as it came through.

     _Wait. Why is there wind in my room?_

“Rise and shine, Princess,” unnecessarily loud, she followed the voice to the blurry figure opening her windows and tying the curtains back. “I told you if you missed breakfast I’d come looking for you.”

     “Loki!” she grunted and pulled the pillow over her to block the invading light away from her tired, sensitive eyes. Being awake sucked. She could feel every movement of her eyes all the way through her head, and every step Loki took was like a giant or a cyclops falling over.

     “It’s time to get up. Everyone was looking for you and _I_ had to cover for you _. Me_ ,” she could practically feel the roll of his eyes. He was such a drama king.

     “I’m sure it was fine. They call you Silvertongue, yes?” He was earning his title of mischief and lies. His trickery rivalled Thalia’s, but he didn’t stick to her ‘amuse, don’t abuse’ code. She’d seen some of his pranks. Many were harmless, but some caused bodily harm. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed, Loki was a good person, but he could get caught up in the fun of it.

     “Yes well,” she hoped he was blushing. It was almost worth removing the pillow to investigate. “If they ask, I told them that I found you staring at the sky before dawn and were possibly there since your… meeting,” his voice tightened a little there, “with my brother.”

     “That’s believable.”

     “I know,” he scoffed. “But, it’s almost lunch, so you have to get dressed. Come on, I know you have more than once dress to wear too so you have to choose,” groaning was becoming a habit of hers on that morning. Tossing the pillow was the easy part, opening her eyes was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. Loki stood with his back to her open windows, silhouetted by the mid-day sun and smirking softly. “I’ll help you pick out a dress but I shouldn’t stay after. It would be considered improper,” he winked and swiftly moved towards her wardrobe. By the time she’d escaped the trailing sheets, he’d picked two dresses and was holding them out to her. “Pick.” He was wearing black and green, as was his custom, and she decided to go for the teal dress instead of the blue one. She nodded to it and he put the other away, not thinking she’d seen his smirk.

     “Now go, I must dress,” she ruffled her hair with massaging blunt fingers to make it easier to style, but when she looked up, he still stood there. “Loki.”

     “It isn’t a dress befitting a Princess,” he smiled a small, pretty smile and weaved his seidr, the type of sorcery he wielded, and she watched in open-mouthed awe as the twinkling and ever-changing starscape she’d lovingly sewn onto her ceremony dress slowly disappeared and reappeared on that day’s [dress](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/8c/17/a2/8c17a2f0ce612dbd88f7122f69e1f7be.jpg).

     “Loki,” she was in awe. “It’s perfect!” She exclaimed and threw herself into a hug he wasn’t expecting.

     “I just thought the stars were really… good,” he said into her hair and she beamed at him when they broke apart. “I’ve enchanted it so your -by the way, incredible- embroidery will appear on whatever you wear so it’s always with you and then,” he said poshly, “everyone will know who you are just by looking at you.” He smiled and nodded his head. She couldn’t even speak as she held the gown in her hands and admired both of their handiwork, and Loki disappeared from her room.

     Wearing it was like floating. It was soft and sparkly and she felt… like a princess. For the first time since her ceremony yesterday, but surely other than that she hadn’t ever felt so royal and posh. She was the daughter of the king of the Olympians. She felt like it, too.

     Lunch was informal, though she did get many compliments on her dress, she was eager to speak with Thalia, who’d had a breakfast date with Thor.

     “It was awful,” her sister groaned as they changed in to sparring gear.

     “No, it can’t have been,” Ourania’s brows drew in and she glanced at her sister as she weighed different swords in her hands.

     “It was. We talked about battle strategy and treaties and he wouldn’t even crack a smile at my jokes. They were gold, Nia. Gold,” her sister used both hands to gesticulate her frustration and punctuated them with another gruff groan.

     “That seems like something he would talk about though,” he hadn’t done that with her, but they’d already talked about it.

     “That was it, though. We ate and talked strategy. We event talked about Athena vs Ares. Strategy versus plain warfare. It was the dullest conversation I’ve ever had, even Morpheus would beg for a dreamless sleep for fear of reliving the meal again in dreams.” At that, Ourania cackled and elbowed her sister in the side.

     “Maybe he just wants to tackle you,” Thalia groaned at her sister’s saucy wink and tapped her with the flat of her sword.

     “To the battle grounds, soldier,” Ourania laughed again at Thalia’s clear evasion of the topic and followed her out onto the field.

      What had started out as a classic ( _read: boring_ ) swordfight for several minutes dissolved when Thalia knocked Ourania’s sword out of her hand and tilted the point of her sword at her sister’s throat. Ourania kicked out at the base of her sister’s wrist and the sword fell from her limp grip. Immediately the two girls unsheathed knives from their bodices and engaged in a knife fight that attracted the attention of their other sisters, and the Lady Sif whom Ourania had only heard about briefly. Thalia dropped her knife when she went for Ourania’s shoulder and caught her armor instead.

     “Getting slow, sister,” Ourania teased and sliced her arm through the air, only to have her sister roll in towards her and step in so close that the knife was way out of range, but easily plucked and thrown from its precarious hold. The two sisters continued their dangerous dance with hand-to-hand combat, throwing silly insults as fast as they threw fists, though Ourania gained the upper hand by using the tiniest bit of her sight to predict where Thalia was going to land blows next.

     “It’s not fair fighting against an opponent with foresight,” Thalia grunted when her elbow hit metal and not flesh.

     “In a real fight, nobody will care if it’s fair or not,” the voice caused both girls to drop their arms and turn.

     “King Odin,” the two said in synchronization ( _don’t giggle, Ourania_ ) and bowed their heads.

     “I’ve heard of your foresight. It is a new talent?” the king stood still and eyed her, and she could feel her sister slinking away to the changing rooms.

    “Yes, your majesty. And it is only growing stronger,” Ourania grew nervous at his silence and the growing group of spectators. _Is something going on that I don’t know about?_ She thought. _Other warriors have stopped sparring, Thor and Loki are here… But for what?_

     “I think it’s time to settle our bet,” Thor slid the words in like they hadn’t all been standing in silence for five minutes.

     “Our bet, my Prince?” Ourania tilted her head, surely he hadn’t meant…

     “Oh yes, ‘I bet I can beat you even without sandals,’ I think were your exact words. Though,” he said as he walked over. Of course, he was already in his extravagant armor. “To be fair, I will also go barefoot,” his smile was dangerous, and Ourania wouldn’t back down from a challenge. She had much more training since her last visit. She could fight with both arms, and Thor certainly wouldn’t be expecting that. So, without speaking, she slid her sandals off her feet and grabbed a sword in her left hand, ready to smash the big, dumb, incredibly attractive, infinitely more annoying oaf’s ego with girl power and a little foresight. “And please,” she whipped her head back, looking at the also barefoot prince wield a sword. “Feel free to use your foresight, you many need the assistance.”

     With no pretense, she flung herself at him. Their fighting was like an angry dance, where he was obviously overpowering her with his dominant arm, and she took the defensive with her left. She was quicker, and she knew where his hits would land, but she was having trouble hitting him back. She would slash or stab and he would parry. The dance was getting old though, and she needed to find an opening to switch to her right hand. She smirked when she found it, and a good reason to shove her bare feet idea in his face, because she could tell that the dirt was making him the tiniest bit irritable. He lifted his sword arm to come down on her left arm, and she tossed the blade into her right hand and spun under his arm, kicking one of her feet up and jabbing him right in the weak spot of his armor in his underarm, and appearing behind him, sword in her dominant hand, and smile on her face.

     “Are you ready?” she breathed, and he grinned with narrowed eyes. She could practically smell his lust for battle, and used it against him, countering his brutally forceful moves with quick jabs and slices aimed to cut him enough to slow down. And it did. After a while, they fought with the silent spectators around them until she made a miscalculation. She went to slice at his arm but he got to her first, the tip of his blade scratching the surface of her throat.

     “Yield,” he held the ego of a man used to winning all the time, and Ourania knew she only had seconds to gain the upper hand. She wailed a piercing scream and his eyes widened, panic freezing his features, and she sidestepped his sword, tossed her own away, and body-slammed the elder prince, shoving her shoulder into his armored stomach (which would leave a nasty mark on her the next day) and taking him down. Cheers erupted as finally something interesting happened as the weaponless and barefoot Prince and Princess rolled into upright positions and began to throw blows. When she feigned away from a fist, she rolled and grabbed both swords and spun to come around behind Thor. Her left hand held the sword in front of his throat, and her right held the other poised at the weak spot of his armor between the waist and hip, right close enough to puncture an organ.

     “Yield,” she whispered in his ear, mocking his previous tone. She could sense his need to shout and be angry at a woman beating him. His face was contorting with different emotions, but a look from his father straightened him right out.

     “I yield. It has been an honor to battle you,” weapons were dropped and the two fighters gripped forearms.

     “The honor was mine,” Ourania then took his elbow. “Time for tea?”

     Loki was the only one who laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dress:  
> https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/8c/17/a2/8c17a2f0ce612dbd88f7122f69e1f7be.jpg


	7. Like the Harry Potter Maze but Infinitely Less Scary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Loki&Ourania friendly chapter!

     Thor’s walk was stiff as they parted ways to change separately, but when Ourania came back to him in her gown, he’d schooled his features a little better.

     “I’m sorry to have embarrassed you,” Ourania couldn’t help getting the little snide remark in. _What’s so wrong with that? If a guy is so embarrassed to be beaten by a woman, he shouldn’t have challenged one. I just gave him a taste of his own medicine._

     “You have naught to worry about,” though tension still kept his muscles tight and the vein in his neck throbbing, the look his father gave him earlier gave him no room to act out at the lady warrior.

     “If you’re sure,” Ourania smiled a little as she walked. Riling him up was fun when she knew he couldn’t say anything back.

     “I am, as I am ready for tea,” they sat down in the garden at a beautifully carved table for two.

     “I am sorry for my disappearance last night,” Ourania offered, pulling her teacup to her lips and sipping the floral scented tea.

     “There is nothing to apologize for, it was late, after all,” the prince nodded at her and all was forgiven.

     She could tell he wanted to say something, and kept herself from saying anything to break the silence was to not talk and make them speak first. Except with Loki. She’d peered in on many a moment when his parents had tried the same method and he stood silent for hours. Ourania aspired to that level of self-control.

     “My lady,” he began, halting for a moment as decisions warred across his features before he apparently decided to keep going. “May I ask about the training you do on Olympus?” Sher smiled. She knew that was coming. Thalia probably hadn’t divulged anything interesting that morning, and Thor had the excuse of just being beaten by her to be curious.

     “Ask away,” she waved a hand flippantly and put on a nonchalant façade as she sipped on more tea.

     “Do you train with weapons separately from your hand-to-hand combat training? Your expertise in both areas was… impressive.”

     “We do. All of us are taught combat skills from a young age, which is why we know how to fight barefoot. It isn’t a thing we actually learn, but in backyard sparring matches and tournaments the kids do it all barefoot. If we would use shoes, it would leave marks on the ground and the elders would know that we were fighting instead of learning,” she smiled fondly. She’d had many bloody fights behind her house in the name of learning and experience before her sisters taught her how to use her feet, knees, elbows, and head as weapons instead of just her fists. “We learn weapons training once we’re strong enough to hold Hades’ enchanted broadsword over our heads for two days and two nights. It’s a sort of rite of passage that tells of physical and mental strength,” Thor nodded, a bit confused, and she continued. “We also all have to know how to fight with both hands.”

     “Why? Everyone has one arm stronger than the other,” he couldn’t contain his questions, and Ourania chuckled.

     “But that is how I can so easily best you. I fought you with my sword in my left hand, and though I am not as fast with that arm, it is equally as strong as my right, and so when I actually switched to my right hand, you were surprised and I could use the amount of force you used against you with speed. Plus, it’s very dramatic throwing a weapon from one hand to the other, and you know the Olympians love drama,” Ourania rolled her eyes and Thor even chuckled.

     “How come, when you fought your sister, you wore full metal armor and she only wore leather?” He thought at the time nothing of it, but now it seemed incredibly unfair, as Ourania had still won against an underdressed opponent. Ourania cringed, this was one of Olympus’ best kept secrets.

     “My sister Thalia was in a war with the mortals against a monster and… used magic to become stronger. It is very hard to physically hurt her, and the metal armor here is very constricting,” she shrugged. She wasn’t allowed to ever mention the river Styx. As far as most Olympians (other than the main twelve) knew, it was a myth, but because of Thalia, the muses had inside knowledge.

     “How?” his tea long forgotten, the prince was sitting with his elbows on the table, leaning towards her like she was divulging the secrets to the universe. _Fat chance_ , she thought.

     “It’s a secret,” she was hoping the wink and smile she gave him would steer him off course, even if it was to pay attention to her, but he only thought it annoying.

     “You must tell me how she did this!” He stood. Ourania stood as well, delicately pushing her chair in and setting her teacup onto the saucer.

     “Do not raise your voice at me, Prince,” Ourania sneered his title ( _Thank you Loki for teaching me that little annoying trick)_ and crossed her arms under her chest, staring into his narrowed eyes. “I am not a petty girl, and I will not be swayed with your charm or your rage. There are secrets of the universe I know of that may never be spoken, and for good reason.” The vein in Thor’s forehead throbbed and his fists clenched.

     “You dare keep secrets from me? In my realm? I am older and stronger, and I am to be king!” _Ouch, bringing up my lack of official title. Unfair._ Thor stormed over to her and looked down. She tilted her chin to look up at him and raised an eyebrow.

     “I didn’t know keeping secrets was a crime, _Prince_ ,” Ourania spun on her heel and went to walk away, but Thor placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. She gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes. She could see Odin coming through the walkway, likely to do his whole ‘You are not king yet’ spiel that apparently happened a lot, but if Ourania wouldn’t fight her own battles, was she even Ourania?

     With that thought, she elbowed his solar plexus, stomped (unfortunately still barefoot) onto his foot, and when he bent over she punched him in the nose, though when she went to knee him in his groin, she stopped. _That’s too far, Ourania. Keep it classy_. She harrumphed and walked away.

     “By the way,” she called over her shoulder. “I can’t disobey orders from my king to indulge the future king of another realm. It doesn’t work that way,” and with that, she tucked and ran. Now she _knew_ she wasn’t going to gain his favor, and prepared herself to be yelled at by her father. She passed Odin on her way and skirted around him, continuing until she reached the library.

     “There’s blood on you,” Loki’s low voice came out of a corner of the library. She peered around, searching for him, though he was hidden.

     “I got in a fight,” she cringed, her knuckles and face were covered in a light sprinkle of blood from the fist to Thor’s nose.

     “Follow my voice,” he sighed. She was sure Loki thought of her as a dumb pet. She was fun and companionable, but he also found her completely useless without him. She found him sitting in a corner with another large tome. When she found him, he gently put a ribbon in his page to mark it and set the book to the side. She sat next to him when he waved her over and used a handkerchief from inside his coat to wipe the blood from her cheeks, nose, and hand.

     “I’ll assume this is not your blood then?” He sighed and replaced the handkerchief, patting her hand and relaxing back into his previous position.

     “No,” she quieted and looked at the younger man. He sat in silence waited for her to continue. This was her chance to see if she could out-quiet Loki. She sat and waited. He sat and waited. She could do it.

     She could not do it.

     “I punched Thor in the face.”

     Loki’s outburst if laughter was unexpected and Ourania giggled in return. She’d noticed that the young prince didn’t laugh a lot, and found that she was a little proud to have made him laugh three times in the past two days. Even if they were all at Thor’s expense. Maybe especially then.

     “I’m sure he deserved it,” Loki smiled and picked his book back up. “I’m learning spells, but I would be fine to do so outside if you want to do that.”

     “Yes, let us,” she smiled and the two friends navigated their way through the library and out into the garden.

     “Have you ever seen anything other than the gardens?”

     “I have not.”

     “A travesty,” Ourania smiled as she saw a little bit of Loki’s old humor come through. He bowed deeply and offered his arm to her. “We must go to the maze at once!” She took his elbow and giggled.

     “The maze, my liege?” She continued.

     “The maze!” He’d drawn her over to a giant gate made of rosebushes, and inside were walls of hedges covered in roses of all colors.

     “Goodness!” Ourania exclaimed. Loki laughed good-naturedly and swept his arm out in a broad gesture and led her through twists and turns until they came to a little bench.

     “A seat for the lady,” she giggled and sat, and Loki followed. He was immediately entranced in his book, the little charade forgotten, and Ourania took that as her cue to search the skies.

     “Oh, no. That won’t do,” she murmured as she watched. Thalia was going to pull a prank on Euterpe that led to the breaking of her flutes and a huge argument between the sisters. They all took sides and had to leave Asgard. She searched Asgards stars for the one she was looking for. Unbeknownst to her, Loki looked up at her words and was watching her carefully as her solid sky blue eyes rolled back and forth and the constellations on her dress shifted with her view.

     Ourania found the stars she was looking for. The brighter star was shining from behind the smaller, duller star and the shadow cast was indirectly causing Thalia’s actions. As if pulled by her thoughts, she reached a finger up in her vision and pushed the littler star a little to the side like she would a chess piece, though Loki only saw her lift her hand and brush away something invisible in the air, he was curious. When she looked out again, Thalia changed her mind and would instead dye Euterpe’s orange dress pink before her evening with the crown prince.

     Her eyes returned to normal and Loki hastened to look back at his book. Ourania was unaware that he’d seen her do something, but he wasn’t sure what it was. It must not have been bad, however, because she was smiling for the rest of their stay in the maze.

     “Shall we return?” Loki side-eyed the pondering princess. She startled and smiled at him.

     “We shall. I would not want to miss supper,” she replied, and she let Loki lead her out of the maze. She planned to explore it again, eventually, but it would have to wait.


	8. Magic is cool (Said Nobody Apparently in Asgard)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Loki&Ourania friendship! Wee! Just a fun little short chapter to hold y'all over until morning :)

     By supper time that evening, another two of her sisters met with Thor, and both complained of his boring conversation. Another was with him for dinner, and that left four left to meet with him. Surely he couldn’t botch _all_ of them. _Hopefully he finds something else to talk about before he meets Calliope_.

     Ourania sat again between Thalia and Loki, as was becoming custom. She enjoyed conversations with her tricksters. On that evening, around dessert time, Ourania nudged her sister. Thalia’s eyebrows were drawn together and she’d barely eaten. Ourania raised her eyebrows at her sister, and Thalia rolled her eyes before whispering in her ear.

     “So, you know how the prince has been boring all of us?” Ourania nodded. “Well _apparently_ once Odin heard of your foresight, he said he must have you,” shaking her head, Ourania placed her silverware back on the table.

     “I don’t know what you imply, sister,” Ourania was sure her sister wasn’t accusing her…

     “I don’t mean to imply that you’ve done anything,” she sighed in relief. “Honestly, I thought since you’d met them all before, it was obvious that they would pick you, but now that I heard of these inappropriate intentions, I feel a bit upset.”

     “Inappropriate?” Thalia nodded and looked pityingly at Ourania.

     “Odin has had his son sabotage all of our meetings so that we hate him enough to not agree to marry, and so he can use your powers. It’s lucky you don’t even know what other powers you might gain,” another shrug and Ourania frowned, feeling both betrayed and confused.

     “I met with Thor before Odin found out and we only talked about the stars.”

     “Well that either means that Odin did know before that, or,” Thalia smirked a little, though it didn’t exactly meet her eyes. “It means that Thor is interested in you,” Thalia winked at her younger sister and tucked back into her dessert, apparently appeased for a moment.

     Ourania spent the end of dinner feeling many emotions. Betrayed by the friendship she thought she had with Thor, enraged by Odin forcing his son to sabotage suitors, embarrassed for her sisters and for Thor for having to deal with that, and she felt very alone. If she hadn’t been showing off in the battle and at the table earlier, they wouldn’t know and Thor could maybe pick her because he liked her, as Thalia suggested. By the end, her emotions were stewing and bringing up endless scenarios of how this could split her sisters and how they would be mad at her for taking their chances away. She could barely steel her face and prevent her eyes from watering or reddening.

     As soon as it was publicly acceptable, Ourania escaped to her rooms. Solace was her only friend as she flopped unceremoniously into her bed in her evening gown. Solace, and apparently, Loki.

     “Why am I always finding you like this?” his voice was soft though it still held humor.

     “At least this time I’m not dead to the world,” she mumbled, sniffling into the quilt and clearing her throat angrily. She hated being choked up.

     “Yes, I would say that this is an improvement. Has my oaf of a brother done something to upset you? I would assume another punch would do him good,” Ourania smiled into her pillow but laughed humorlessly.

     “It’s not a punching situation.”

     “Well sit up and gossip with me then. There’s nobody I love to hate as much as my brother.” He seemed surprised at his own words, sitting in silence with tight lips and drawn brows. _He hates Thor… I’m not terribly surprised. Watching the two of them together and watching how Odin treats them…_ It made her feel very cold. She wished Loki could feel the love she got from her sisters, and vowed to herself that even if he wouldn’t get that from Thor, he would get it from her. So, she told him what Thalia had told her, and how she felt after, and even how she was scared that her sisters would be upset with her. His face grew more upset by the word, though he held out until the end to ask questions.

     “Do you want to marry him?” she sputtered at Loki’s question and her face crumpled again.

     “I don’t want to marry. Not yet at least,” she whimpered. She was grateful for Loki in that moment. Too frightened to talk to her sisters about it, she was grateful to Loki for listening to her. He was even younger than her, and she was sure he understood as well. He brushed her wet hair back from her face and wiped the tears from under her eyes.

     “Your sisters will not be angry with you,” he whispered. When she opened her eyes, his green ones were right in front of her. She could see his resignation and pity. “They will know that Odin did this. I do not think my brother smart enough to come up with this, and he is likely only following our father’s orders. I think it is okay for you to be upset with him, but it is more fitting for you to be angry with my father,” she nodded and he dropped his hands from the side of her face.

     “Why don’t you get ready for bed? I left a book for you on the wardrobe.”

     “Thank you, Loki,” she croaked. “I wasn’t expecting any of this. I was just having fun and I thought they would never pick me,” she sniffled and a sob burst out as she laughed. “Thank you,” she hugged him, and he squeezed her briefly before disappearing. His absence was almost painful.

     _I was so excited to be here. I wanted to explore and watch the stars. I wanted to spar with Sif and have tea with Frigga._ She sighed and resigned herself to lounging in a soft nightdress before tucking into Loki’s book. She surely wasn’t getting any sleep. _At least now I can see more of Frigga. I do adore her._

     The book was of magic. She learned that all Asgardians had seidr within them, though it was apparently a feminine thing to do for one to study the art of seidr wielding. She scoffed at that. Loki. Feminine? The thought was ridiculous. He fought with more skill than Thor, and was as strong as him, too. Magic would only help him in life, battle, and in death. She wondered if Olympians all had some base magic inside of them, and thought that she wouldn’t be surprised. She read until she fell asleep curled into the cushion on the windowsill with her face resting on the front cover.

     Dealing with the news would wait until the next day.


	9. Loki Visits Pre-Revolutionary France

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! There is a time jump. The beginning is at the same time as the last chapter (Loki is 1300, Ourania 1600, the year is roughly 15th century.  
> It skips so Loki is 1600, Ourania is 1900, and it's the end of the 18th century. It will make sense.

     Ourania evaded everyone until that evening when Thor had finished all his dates, even with Calliope. Dinner was quiet, and Ourania decided to herself to not mention her conversations with Thalia and Loki to anyone else. If Thor did choose her, then she would deal with it.

     “A feast, for your last night here,” Odin spread his arms and servants came in from all entrances with platters of food and drink in excess. _Last night? I didn’t know we’d be leaving so immediately. I haven’t sparred with Sif. Thor hasn’t chosen…_

“My son will deliberate with us about the betrothal, and we will send word to you, but for now, eat!”

     “Another several hundred years later,” Thalia muttered under her breath and Ourania struggled to contain her laughter by shoving a piece of meat into her mouth and raising one eyebrow in agreement. She could expect Odin to wait until she was fully grown to announce the betrothal, and a bit longer before a marriage and hand-fasting ceremony.

     Their farewells were… varied. Many bows around, though Ourania gave Loki a tight hug and promised to try and be back before the betrothal announcement. Walking away from someone she’d made such fast friends with was tough, especially when she looked back and his cynical, shadowy mask was put back in place. His face held no emotions, and she worried he would stay that way until her return. Thor kissed each one of their hands in farewell with no words to any of them, and then the nine muses and their father traveled back to Olympus.

     As it turned out, Thalia and her sisters had already convened about the sabotage of the betrothal by Odin and, consequently, Thor, and decided to not worry about it. It would be several hundred years in the making and, as Thalia would say: ‘Worrying is just twice the suffering.’

      Life on Olympus was… Different now. She got to wear her colors all over, and though she wasn’t full grown, it marked her as an eligible bachelorette since none of them had been claimed yet, and they found suitors by the dozens of immortals and mortals alike. Euterpe had accepted a betrothal by a fellow Olympian, and Zeus had to send news to a very unhappy Odin that they were narrowed down to eight possible wives.

     But for the time being, Ourania could forget about dumb brutes and cunning best friends and sabotaging in-laws. She was a woman in Olympus and the world was hers to enjoy. The ‘Golden Age’ (or so the mortals named it) of Earth’s Greece was long over, and Ourania and her sisters were allowed a break from visiting and working on the ground. The Greeks worshiped them as the Norse worshiped Asgardians, though now that they’d finished it was a relief to have some time to herself. Ourania had spent years going on trips to the surface of the barbaric Earth and hadn’t liked it all that much other than teaching them about the stars. Though she was only a babe at that time, there were still places that kept to the old ways and had to be visited.

     Now though, it had been so long and she was only a child then. Now they followed their Christianity and Ourania visited for fun more than anything. Today, she watched them. She had a bit of a soft spot for her past worshipers and kept an eye on them. The ‘Ottomans’ had taken Greece, though they still excelled in charting the stars and Ourania was glad of it.

     “What’s on the agenda today?” Thalia plopped down in the grass clad in a yellow tunic shirt and white trousers.

     “Just looking at the Greeks on Midgard again,” she sighed. The Midgardians were getting adept at killing each other. She was scared to visit, though realistically, she could beat them with a flick of her sword.

     “Tell me about their stars again. I want to hear about the dragon one. It always intrigues me that they mess up the story so much,” Ourania laughed as her sister stared up into the sunny sky.

     “Let me show you,” she’d been practicing since she’d shown Thor and grabbed her sister’s hand with no hesitation to show her the dragon. “He’s called Draco,” she continued, and showed her sister how to connect the dots to see the image. “Draco was the dragon who protected the magical golden apples. The Greeks thought that Hercules killed Draco to steal the apples, but the Romans believed that their goddess Minerva (who is actually Athena, just with a fancy name) killed him and tossed him into the sky after killing him, where he froze in his curled position,” she let go of her sister’s hand with only a small yawn to show of her magical use. “I personally haven’t paid attention to the trials of Hercules and can’t put any truth in the first theory, but,” she added with a small smile at her sister. “I do know that Athena hates snakes,” the girls laughed and watched the clouds pass over them.

     “Why do they call her Minerva?” Thalia rolled onto her side and Ourania reflected the position, twirling grass in her fingers.

     “They gave all of us different names in their language because they didn’t want to be like the Greeks, who took our names from the stories we spread.”

     “That seems petty.”

     “The mortals are very petty,” Ourania shrugged and dropped the subject. She could try forever to understand the ways of mortals but every time she felt they could be good, they would go and start another war or crusade and kill everyone all over again. It got old. But then, everything did. Even Ourania and her sisters.

     On Midgard, the old gods were forsaken and the muses had to take different forms on their visits to be acknowledged by the humans. Thalia and Melpomene would visit as actors from strange faraway lands to inspire writers and actors alike. Calliope spent days modelling and moonlighted as a singer in towns where soldiers were staying. Clio more oft than not just took up guitar in the streets of old cities as strangers, lovers, and locals passed by, and Euterpe would join with her flutes. Terpsichore would spend days and nights in towns dancing in balls or teaching children to read and write. Erato spent her nights with artists, poets, writers, and musicians as their personal muse. Polymnia met with priests of many religions and planted seeds in their heads of the overarching themes of good and evil, no matter who they worshipped. Ourania had a harder time. She wanted to speak with scientists but them men did not take her seriously, and often was disguised as a man to speak with them at all. That was why she found herself spending more time studying the skies and her powers. Midgard made her feel very alone. She felt a sort of hole of uselessness and unworthiness.

     In the next three hundred years, she learned many things. Ourania drifted away from her sisters. Not Thalia though, never Thalia. She couldn’t connect with them anymore. What kept them together previously was their dedication in sticking to Greece, but that was over and she didn’t have anything in common with them.

     Ourania didn’t even live with her sisters anymore. She stayed in a home on the outskirts of Olympus and stared at the stars day and night, finding peace in their silence and everlasting, constant nature. She watched Loki a lot. He suffered just as she did. But she never visited. She was afraid of Thor or Odin being notified of her presence. She wanted to see him though, she wanted to tell him about her new powers and skills. She wanted to ask about the rift between him and Thor. She wanted to see him. So, she sent him a message. It wasn’t anything grand or obvious, but when an envoy went to Asgard, she placed an enchanted note in his bag and hoped that it found itself to Loki. She had nothing to do but wait, hone her battle skills, and read the stars.

     She didn’t have to wait long. Loki teleported into her stone house that very evening while she watched the rain through her window.

     “Loki!” she felt a grin split her face and wrapped him up tight in her arms. He was older. As old as she had been the last time she visited, and he was filling out finally with a little more muscle. He looked thin still, and she never stopped worrying. “I’m sorry I never came. I didn’t want to be seen by the others,” when she pulled back the smile melted away from her, in front of her was a young man breaking apart slowly, and he could barely form a smile at seeing her. “Loki,” her voice broke. She’d seen him struggling but she never expected him to look so desolate.

     “I…” he stood stoic for a moment, and she reflected briefly on all the times he stood with that same face as he was overshadowed by Thor’s greatness and Odin’s dismissal of him. When he was endlessly the punch line of a joke just for being the younger brother, endlessly the scapegoat, endlessly mocked for his seidr weaving, for his pranks becoming more troublesome, his words sharper and more scathing, his few public appearances becoming fewer and more disastrous. She wished she’d called on him sooner. “I don’t know what to do with myself,” he whimpered, frightening her with the fervency of the hug he pulled her into. “I can’t gain anybody’s favor and everything I do seems to backfire,” he sobbed and Ourania was still frozen with wide eyes and mouth. It took her a moment to break out of her trance and pull him over to the couch with her.

     “I’ve seen, but I didn’t know what to do,” she whispered, hugging him to her with an arm around his shoulders. Their view of the window covered in rain likely wasn’t helping his mood, but she couldn’t control the weather.

     Loki shuddered, as if shaking off his self-pity and sat straight again. He didn’t put his emotionless mask in place, but he did dry his tears and keep his chin up. She wished again that she’d called earlier so he didn’t feel that he had to always be strong.

     “Would you like to visit Midgard with me tomorrow? I was planning on going to a ball. Being so obviously superior to mortals might cheer you up,” he did smile a bit, and on the next morn, clad in their formal wear, Ourania took him to France.

     It was Loki’s first trip to the country and she was glad she brought him before the revolution she saw coming and he was there for the elegance, the grandeur, and the absolute abundance of flower fields and gold _everything_. It was glamorous, it was excessive, it was everything Asgard did but gaudier. Loki was having a ball.

     “What is this place?” They were wandering the hall of mirrors and everything except the actual mirrors was dripping in solid gold.

      “This,” she paused dramatically as she drew them to a mirror to gaze at themselves. “This is Versailles.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you got my Harry Potter reference. Could you imagine if Minerva McGonagall killed Draco? Unreal. My imagination is going wild.


	10. A Snake in the Court (AKA Likely what the Warriors Three Call Loki Behind His Back)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's late and short! I volunteered like sixteen hours the past few days. But it's here! Not full of plot, but fun.  
> Loki and Ourania have inspirational outfits i'll link in.

     “What _exactly_ am I wearing?” Loki seethed at his [green and gold getup](https://alixann.files.wordpress.com/2014/07/siglo_xviii_men_clothing.jpg), finally seeing himself in the mirror.

     “I know, I know,” Ourania countered, “But it’s the current style,” she couldn’t help but giggle, however. Her own [gown](https://historyofeuropeanfashion.files.wordpress.com/2012/05/mmepompadour.jpg) was squeezing her rib cage into a tightly bound upside-down triangle, and the sheer number of petticoats and ruffles weighed down on her like Sisyphus’s boulder.

     “The ‘current style’ is disturbing,” everything he wore was lined with gold thread, though the mint green of the rest of the fabric (while it was a customary color for balls) was a far cry from his usual forest green. “Does nobody wear blue here?” He glanced down at her dress. It was true, most of the French wore pastel colors and so she had to hide her stars in her shoes that nobody could see. Though, they were dazzling, if inappropriate for monarchical France.

     “I would say impractical, definitely gaudy, even cruel if you want to try on this corset,” he laughed at that, “but I don’t know that I would call it disturbing.” One dark eyebrow rose and Loki rolled his eyes.

     “I’m wearing tights,” he practically growled.

     “If you weren’t, people would be very confused,” she dragged him through halls until they found a large, ornately decorated ballroom. Loki sighed as he looked around. He could see their mortality. Dying young, covered in powder and gold to hide their prematurely aging features. Even the rich suffered.

     “I could kill them with one flick to their fragile hearts,” he sighed and looked utterly flippant, rolling his eyes once again at Ourania. _He sure does think about killing people in odd situations._

     “Well try not to. Dance with me,” she pulled him into the fray of twirling skirts, demure smiles, and orchestral music with the elegance of a queen and the wildness of a lion. Paths parted for them as they found their place at the center of the floor and quickly learned the dance most of the French men and women there were participating in. Hands barely touching hands, feet barely touching the floor, they glided like the royalty they were, and even amongst the most wealthy, beautiful, and high-esteemed of France, they obviously shined brighter than the rest.

     From the sidelines, guests socializing and drinking looked at the two newcomers with no names to be had dancing… beautifully, but almost with indifference. That was on Loki’s behalf. He easily grasped the steps and found them boring. Ourania, however, found that she could use the basic steps and add flair. She threw her curled hair around (though it was pinned up), added a little extra flutter to her fingers when she drew her arms back, swished her skirts more carefree than the others, and she danced with a clever little smile on her face. To the outsiders, she was dancing freely and with passion, though she was trying so hard to get Loki to engage. She knew it would have been easy to show him the library, but she wanted a challenge. Find something he could do other than his hobbies of reading and magic. She couldn’t dance as well as some of her sisters, but her skills obviously outdid the mortals.

     “Loki,” she crooned in his ear. “We’re in one of the most wealthy, excited, downright ridiculous,” he huffed an amused breath, “gatherings in the world for the past and next several centuries,” they twirled again, though they always stayed at the center of the mass of bodies. “If you can’t have fun dancing with me,” she threw him a big-eyed pout when they made eye contact, “then I’m going to have to make some fun myself,” she raised an eyebrow at him. She wasn’t known as a prankster, but her closest friends were the Muse of Comedy and the God of Mischief. She could figure something out.

     “Well I’m finding this dancing repetitive and boring,” she could tell she piqued his interest at his response, and decided to play a little prank on the French nobility. She hoped she knew the dance well enough to continue while her mind was on the skies, but just in case…

     “Hold onto me,” she warned, and he tightened his grip as he saw her eyes go starry.

     _Antares was out of place. It made Scorpio look broken. If she pushed the dark star a teensy bit to the west, she could see that it put the constellation back into place. A family in Mexico would end up sacrificing their daughter if she moved it, but that was an honor to them. Two sailors in the Atlantic would lose sight of the North Star and lose themselves in a storm. Six children would see their mothers again, healed after rough childbirths. Seventy sheep would be spared instead of eaten. A man would catch his wife with his horse master; he would leave them angrily after firing the man and cursing his wife and decide to come to the ball he was invited to that his wife did not want to attend, with his mistress. They would come in a horse drawn carriage. They would walk into the room, not watching the snake slither out of their hooded horse master’s satchel. They danced about. The horse master that had taken the man’s wife watched as the snake entered the elaborate palace and rode away._

Ourania gasped as she saw all of it happen right up until that very moment, hand still pressed to Loki’s, feet still ( _thankfully_ ) moving.

     “What did you do?” the hiss tickled her ear and Loki had never heard her laugh so gleefully. Not full of malice, but excitement and mischief.

     “I think you’ll like it,” she whispered and twirled again in his arms, laughing wildly as the screaming started.


	11. Loki Gets a Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I’m back! Sorry about the long wait. I was in a no-wifi zone for an excruciatingly long amount of time but I am back! Also! For you Tolkien-ites out there, I’m learning Sindarin right now and I’m wishing I were a linguist and not an environmentalist. My talents of learning and deciphering languages are wasted on the trees.  
> Sorry this chapter is so short; more will be coming soon!  
> And. I want to make another Darcy fic and I would like opinions. I’m going to pitch my idea in the end of chapter notes so keep reading!

     Loki grabbed Ourania’s hand and pulled her out of the center of the screaming mob of people, and raised his eyebrows at her unrestrained glee.

     “What did you _do_?” he hissed in her ear once he’d found an unoccupied corner.

     She paused to catch her breath, though the words were still breathy with laughter. “I let a snake in,” she giggled and tried to hold in her laughter with a hand to her mouth, but when she saw young Loki’s lips begin to curl into a smile, she laughter freely and pulled him back into the dance. It was almost macabre. The orchestra still played, likely paid to play at all times, and the two shining stars danced on to the tune as screaming royal ladies and men scrambled from door to door, though they still parted ways when Loki and Ourania danced by them.

     It was exciting. It was enthralling. It all went to hell when thunder boomed like a heavenly gong before a horrible downpour began outside through the windows.

     “Is that…”

     “It is,” she whispered back to Loki and locked her wide eyes with his. “ _Run!_ ” He couldn’t tell if she was amused or afraid of her father’s wrath, but either way the two sprinted through solid gold hallways, stumbled into guards, and finally found a back way out of the palace. “Take us to my house!” Loki clenched his eyes shut and teleported the two of them back to her little home on the outskirts of Olympus, and sat down on her bed.

     “Oh boy,” Ourania whispered. She may have avoided her father, but he would be back. “You might want to hide or leave,” she speculated. “I’ll give my father five minutes to realize I left and he might not know you were with me,” Loki rolled his eyes but nodded. When he stood, Ourania searched her mind for a more efficient way to contact Loki, or for him to contact her. She stuck a finger out at him for him to wait and struggled to think.

     _It is easy enough for him to just teleport but… We need something. If it’s true what I read, if Olympians do have some basic magic maybe I could… combine that with my star powers and fashion him something… Some way to send each other messages._ And she figured it out.

     It was weird, for Loki, watching what happened next. He knew his own magic looked very natural, as he’d been practicing for years and the motions and words came with ease. He could weave a seamless tapestry of seidr, but to his knowledge Ourania had never used magic before. She looked… like she was in pain. For a moment, she stood still with her hand outstretched, but a loud _CRACK_ jerked his attention to where her knees now rested on the floor and she curled into herself. Her hands clenched and unclenched in front of her and a dark blue cloudy energy swirled about her feet and knees. It rested there like a pillow of pure night that smelled like fresh air and tasted like nighttime after a rain, but as he watched from the bed, the dark foggy substance got smaller and sucked, almost as if through a tube, into her hands as it began to form an object. Rounded, and with a handle. A [mirror](https://prickettandellis.files.wordpress.com/2016/05/mirror-victorian-sterling-silver-hand-mirror-1897-276029.jpg). She held a silver magic mirror in her hands and panted as she looked up at him. Sweaty hair, a pinched forehead, yellowish skin, and wide, glassy eyes looked at him, and he knew this magic hangover would be worse than the last one. One of her eyes drooped and the other stayed wide. Loki leapt into action before she began slumping to one side and placed his unconscious companion gently on her bed.

     He bit on his lower lip and looked at her prone form. He couldn’t leave her like that, not with her father soon to return, but… He sighed and picked up the mirror. Silver, and heavier than it looked, he looked in it. At first he saw only his face. Pointed nose, pale pallor, dark hair. Green eyes rolled back at him. He meant to stroke his hands down the intricate side carvings but when his fingers touched the reflective surface, it felt like he dipped his fingers into a cool, thick liquid. The surface rippled when he drew his hand away and showed him a night sky swirling about. He thought about how his mother would like to examine this and the swirling quickly turned into a vision of his mother combing her hair before bed.

     _Where was Loki today?_ She seemed to say in his head, though her lips moved in the mirror as well… Could Ourania have crafted something so intricate? Could he now see what she saw?

     “Use it,” her crackling voice came from the bed, though it got softer as she spoke. “Use it to contact me. Please,” and she fell into a deep slumber.

     He meant to check on her, but the rattling of the front door slamming open panicked him enough to immediately teleport into his own bedroom on Asgard. He was ashamed to have left her, though. She wouldn’t have left him like that… With a sigh Loki left the beautiful mirror on his bed table and sulked over to his bed. His one good friend and he left her to deal with a magical hangover the size of Thor’s ego. Some friend he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for my new Darcy fic, I want it to be less AU than this one, where she's definitely human and it will fall under the Darcy is Tony's daughter AU. Like she was raised in Stark mansion and nobody knows and IDK who I'll ship her with yet but basically Tony will offer up one of the Avengers the house as a safe house on a whim and Darcy is just there like sipping on coffee and watching Harry Potter and can you just imagine legitimately any Avenger coming in and saying "Tony said this was a safe house, but I guess it's more of a safe home," with 100 levels of sarcasm bc obviously Tony would forget to tell them that his top secret daughter lives in there.


	12. Crying Himself to Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the end of next chapter I'll put an excerpt of my new fic but I had to get a little chapter in quick before a family gathering!

     “Where were you this evening? Mother was worried when you missed our evening meal?” Loki whipped his head around just as he laid a knee on his bed. Thor sat in Loki’s favorite plush black armchair in the corner of his bedchamber.

     Loki inhaled deeply to calm his immediate aversion to his brother’s presence.

     “What, may I ask, are you doing in my chambers?” Loki pushed himself back into a standing position and crossed his arms. The only way he could quickly remove his brother from his presence was a swift reassurance that he was fine and needed no companionship, but after his near encounter with Zeus and his burgeoning feelings of self-loathing for leaving his only friend to fend for herself… He wanted Thor to feel something like that. He wanted the Crown Prince to feel lowly and helpless, just like him and their father made Loki feel in any occasion where they were together.

     “Waiting up for you,” Thor stood and smiled crookedly at his younger brother. “I worried as well.”

     “Well if you must know, I was on Midgard,” Loki sniffed haughtily as if in distaste to the blonde brute and raised an eyebrow.

     “Whatever were you on that dirty rock for?” Thor’s laugh boomed and echoed across the walls and bookshelves that lined Loki’s room and he fought not to cringe at the raised voice.

     “I went to a ball,” Thor laughed more, but Loki was about to drop the second shoe. “With Ourania.”

     The laughing stopped. Thor’s eyebrows first drew down in confusion, and then together in anger. Surprisingly swift for his size, Loki found himself suddenly face to face with his noticeably older and larger brother.

     “You brought my betrothed dancing? Brother, you know my intentions! Why would you do this?” Loki couldn’t tell if his brother looked more like a kicked pup or a bull about to charge. He rolled his eyes as slowly as he could and turned his back on his brother, trying to be casual and collected as he perused titles on the nearest bookshelf.

     “Technically,” Loki drawled as he pulled out a slim blue book. He glanced at the cover and returned it to the shelf before continuing. “She is not your betrothed. You haven’t chosen Ourania as your wife, yet. And you should most definitely decide soon brother,” Loki threw a little smile over his shoulder at his brother that certainly was not reflected in his narrowed eyes, “You saw that one of her sisters already accepted a different proposal. They’re all free to marry as long as there is one left to marry you.” Loki shrugged and pulled out a heavy brown magic spell book and perused the pages on battle magic before looking back up at his brother, as if he’d forgotten Thor was there at all. _As if._  “Maybe I’ll find one… suitable,” a one shouldered shrug was all Loki could express before Thor was charging him.

     He ducked under Thor’s arm and skimmed the page one more time before whispering the old words and grasping a translucent green staff in his right hand. It was blunt and would do no lasting damage, but he would never win in a fist fight against his brother. So, he twirled the staff in his hand and bent his knees, ready for Thor’s next strike.

     Thor couldn’t think straight. Loki… Loki had interest in the Muses, maybe even in Ourania. But, how could he? He knew Thor and Odin planned to pick her. He ran at his younger brother, though the end of Loki’s long magic staff bounced against his shoulder and threw him off balance, and he fell to the floor. He rose again and the brother’s exchanged blows of fists and magic, both with bloodied noses by the time the younger brother stood with his staff at Thor’s throat as he lay on the ground, panting. He seemed to get larger as he began speaking, and his eyes grew ever darker until the once shining green was swallowed up by black.

     “You might know, _brother_ , that father is only using you and plans to use Ourania for her gift of sight,” Loki let the staff dissolve, though he kept Thor on the floor with his stare. “I don’t care if you actually do prefer her to all of her siblings, I know that father only plans to accept her because of her power. She is the _only_ person in all the realms that believes in me and understands me,” Loki’s voice broke, and he fought to keep his eyes from stinging. Not in front of Thor. Never in front of Thor. “And I will not have you ruin her with your frivolity and scheming!” He couldn’t control his yelling though. That was a battle he lost as soon as he thought of Thor breaking his poor best friend’s heart for any reason. He formed the staff again, though with a pointed spear tip this time, and put that at Thor’s throat. “Ourania is my only friend in this forsaken life, and I will not have you and father making her a pretty trophy wife with nothing good but her magic.”

     Loki scoffed at his excuse for a brother and waved away the spear.

     “Leave me,” he threw the words over his shoulder and stood facing away until his door opened and closed. He sagged to the ground and held the mirror in his hands, searching for her.

     Ourania was in her bed still, though a wet cloth lay on her flushed forehead and her eyelids fluttered with ever haggard breath.

     Loki clenched his hands and let a few tears fall onto the reflective surface of the viewing mirror, and finally let out several jagged breaths. It was hard to contain the noises, but no one could ever know that he cried. So he sat, and drew in long heavy breaths until his eyes dried and his head felt like cotton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How I imagine Loki, except a teenage boy, and silent:  
> https://media.giphy.com/media/RTHSACa7O9bGM/giphy.gif


	13. Why Would You Throw Your Son in a River?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little note for those of you who read my little tidbits  
> 1) An excerpt from my new fic I’m starting will be posted at the end of this chapter  
> 2) I am all about the reader imagining the main character however they please, but the memory loss thing is happening soon so I wanted to clear up how I imagine it. I imagine Ourania with the Darcy Lewis played by Kat Dennings’ facial features and hair color and texture and skin color and whatnot, though because she is technically a ‘goddess’ or alien or however, while she’s Ourania I imagine her very fit, almost like Sif, very lean and muscly. But magic will happen and she’ll look like regular Darcy when things happen later. If that helps.  
> 3) MOST IMPORTANT: There is a time jump. Beginning is still 18th century (for all of you theater friends out there, this is about fifty years before the French June Rebellion, highlighted in Les Miserables jsyk) and Loki is still like a teenager and Ourania is like 19 ish. Then we move to 1830 because I’m here and obviously, I had to do the June Rebellion which is in 1832.

     Ourania was in trouble. She hadn’t told her father about her ne power of being able to change some aspects of the future.

     “This needs to be catalogued,” she was sitting in the ancient library and her father left her there to explain her powers to a scribe to be put in the books. Because apparently, everyone had to go through this.

     “I know,” she sighed and sat down, she wanted to see Loki again.

     “Tell me exactly what powers you have, and how they work.”

     “This seems like it could be used against me in the future,” she countered and the old man rolled his eyes at her.

     “It goes into the archives. Nobody will look.” Another sigh.

     “When I look at the stars I can peer into people’s past and present through the alignment of the stars, and sometimes I can see possibilities of futures,” he scribbled faster than she could have and raised an eyebrow at her, like he knew she was hiding more secrets. She clenched her jaw and spoke again. “I can also sometimes show other people these things with physical contact,” he nodded his head at that, as though that was the interesting part. “And I can sometimes move the positions of the stars to make a different future happen,” she mumbled as fast as she could and the old man gawked at her, though still writing it all down. She shrugged and looked down. That was new, though it did tire her out. She had to practice with her powers like a warrior trains his muscles to carry more weight. It was tedious.

     “Am I done now?” She asked, because she certainly would not tell him about the magic yet. That was a little crazy something she didn’t want to talk about. When asked about her ‘magic hangover’ as Loki called them, she said it was from altering the positions of the stars to make the snake incident happen.

     At the scribe’s nod, Ourania scurried off to find Thalia. She wanted to tell her about the upcoming war. Fifty years for the humans would be a long time, but Ourania had a soft spot for the French ever since she took Loki to Versailles, and would miss the golden palace.

     “Nia!” _Speak of the Devil…_ Thalia ran up to her youngest sister and didn’t even slow down as she grabbed her hand and dragged her to her house halfway up Mount Olympus.

     “What’s going on?” Ourania huffed. It wasn’t hard to keep up, but she was taken by surprise.

     “I want to see the stars while the sun is out! Look you can see them!” And she could. Some of the stars shone even in the midafternoon sun. “Does it look different to you when it’s sunny?”

     “No,” Ourania said as she took her sister’s hand and zoomed them both in on the sky. “Because I am looking at the stars, not the sky. And the stars are always enclosed in blackness,” she showed her how even though the sun was bright, it didn’t brighten up the galaxy as it did their sky. “But Thalia,” she let her hand go and looked in her sister’s eyes. “I needed to ask you something.”

     “What it is?” She pulled Ourania to a bench and considered her sister’s unusual seriousness.

     “There is…” She paused and reconsidered what she wanted to say. “Something dark looms on the horizon in France on Midgard, and many children and young people will die,” she wouldn’t tell her sister that she meant both the plague and the rebellion. “I wish to fight, or even if not to fight, I wish to go and give them some hope,” Thalia considered her sister’s words and drew her lips into a grim line.

     “You want to go to the Styx.”

     “I know it’s not a worthy cause. I know that I’m not fighting a monster or battling a demigod,” she shrugged and looked at her knotted hands. “But, they need a symbol of hope. They’re not going to win this rebellion, Thalia. So many bright lights, I’ve seen all their deaths. I want to fight with them, but I don’t know I will fare with their new weapons, I don’t know how they work on immortals.”

     “Sister,” Thalia smoothed her baby sister’s hair behind her ear. She was so serious for her age, and so very strong. “Giving hope to others in their time of need is never unworthy. I will take you to the Styx, but it will not be easy to do, and it is not an easy burden to bear.” Ourania hugged her sister tiredly. She couldn’t help but love the humans. They were so brutal but they cared so much about each other.

     So, in the human year 1830, Thalia took Ourania down to Hades’ home and brought her to the River Styx. It was dirty and full of material items. Ourania didn’t like the way it looked and smelled. Her still new magic swirled in her brain like a hurricane, as though it could pull her away.

     “You’re going to have to focus on a spot, Nia. A spot on your body which will be the only spot that isn’t invincible. It tethers you to our world and if you don’t, Nia,” Thalia’s eyes looked more old than Ourania had ever seen them. “If you don’t focus, the Styx will burn away your soul.”

     _Oh. Okay. That’s lovely. Are they worth it? Am I even doing this just for France. The things I’ve seen ahead… Yes. I need to do this. Where do I focus though?_

     As soon as she thought the words, it seemed so simple. Like the river decided for her, almost. Thalia stood on the edge and nodded at her sister. Ourania put one foot in front of the other until she was waist deep in the cold, murky water. She didn’t feel anything, but she had to only focus on that spot. Just keep thinking. And finally, she walked until she could easily duck her head underwater. That was when the burning started.

     It felt like all the pollution and objects in the river were whipping by her so fast that they were scratching and abrading her skin, and then the dirty dark water rushed by the cuts and stung her. She didn’t know if she was freezing or burning hot but every inch of her skin felt too tight and too sensitive. But she had to focus. She opened her eyes and saw the items passing by her, and she also saw every memory that came with them. A roman helmet passed by and she saw a soldier wishing to best others in battle but failing and dying. She saw a paintbrush nearly impale her face and saw a man starving in an alley after being denied work. She saw a baby blanket, and a mother who’d miscarried. She tried to focus on the spot, but where was it?

     The burning was everywhere but where was it, she couldn’t feel it anymore. Ourania couldn’t breathe in the water, she couldn’t see anymore, but all she could do was feel. She began to panic. She didn’t want to lose her soul. What would Loki do? What would Thalia do? Her two friends. One blood, one circumstantial. And then she felt it. Like the tug of a rope pulling at her tailbone. The only part of her that wasn’t screaming in agony. She searched for it in her mind. The rope, that is. It felt like a glowing golden thread holding her to thoughts of her sister and her best friend. Seeing Thalia smile, making the ever-serious Loki laugh with abandon.

     She could barely hold her breath any longer, so she forced both aching hands to grab onto the taught golden cord, and pulled herself towards the shore with it. Every foot brought more light, until her head passed up into the air and she drew in several large breaths.

     Thalia sat on the edge with worried eyes and sagged in relief when her little sister emerged wet and tired from the river.

     “That fucking sucked,” she coughed and water came out of her nose. Thalia’s laughter incited her own laughter and the two laughed their way all the way back to Ourania’s home. She felt confident that she could help people now. She could do some good instead of just staring at the sky all day and night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excerpt from new Darcyfic!  
> Really, he should have known better.  
> The people of Midgard hadn’t forgiven him, even though he’d clearly explained how he’d been mind-controlled just as the archer had been, and for much longer, but nooooo. They keep grudges. At least the so-called Avengers listened a little bit, even if most of them were still wary. Iron Man, or Tony, as the man kept insisting, was surprisingly the most accepting, and Loki was grateful. Really, he was. And he knew he couldn’t stay in the city he destroyed. Tony was kind enough to offer up a safe house.  
> “No,” Tony had said on that day. “Not like one of Natasha’s underground windowless bunkers. A safe house.”  
> Loki had been grateful for the offer. It was beautiful, too. Never as much as Asgard, but good for Midgard. It was a mansion in Upstate New York, close enough to be watched by Tony, and far enough to be out of anyone else’s view, with a security clearance higher than all the Avengers. Nobody knew about it except Tony and Fury.  
> It was quiet and peaceful from the outside.  
> He should have known better.  
> As soon as he opened the door he was assaulted by sound. A song he hadn’t heard before was blasting through invisible speakers, and a voice from within the house was singing along.  
> “Nothing lasts forever, but wouldn’t it be nice to stay together for the night! We can do whatever, as long as we’re together then we’re gonna be alright,” he followed the voice through a foyer and into a living room where a young woman was belting out the lyrics and dancing unsteadily. He pondered her for a few moments.  
> “Head out the window, you can call me shameless. Waving to my people now I’m acting like I’m famous. Tell him take the long way, we could see the sunrise!” The song kept on, but the woman paused in her singing to take a drink of… perhaps wine, from a glass goblet and inhale from a little paper roll in her other hand. The singing and imbibing and smoking continued until Loki cleared his throat and the music abruptly stopped.  
> “He told me it would be a safe house, but I didn’t know it was someone’s home,” Loki smirked at the flustered woman and didn’t even notice her features, too amused by the scene unfolding.  
> “You must be the baby brother.”  
> The smirk dropped. Not what he was expecting.


	14. The Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I'm back!

1832

     “Ourania… Has feelings of uselessness very often,” Loki was almost grown, though he still looked much younger than his brother and best friend, and felt silly coming to his mother for help. “She’s said to me that out of all of her sisters she has the least practical job, and even things she hasn’t said directly have lead me to believe that she doesn’t fully understand her position in the universe,” Frigga nodded as her son cocked his head and wrinkled his nose. He sometimes had trouble explaining himself when there were things he couldn’t tell people. It’s how she knew that the lighthearted little Muse might be in trouble.

     “Many of us don’t have that understanding, why does this worry you?” The bench they sat on was hard and cold, but she was always thankful for the times when her youngest son would open up to her. Those times were rare.

     “She’s done something.” Loki bit his lip and his eyebrows drew down as he tried to explain. “She’s done something that could put her in danger, and I can’t tell you what,” Loki’s mother only nodded. “I think it came out of her feeling useless, but she told her sister some half-hearted excuse…” he sighed and threw up his hands in exasperation. “I don’t know how to explain this.” He groaned and Frigga only petted his hair for a moment.

     “How is it you came by this information?” He blushed lightly, and pulled an ornate mirror from his cloak.

     “She made this for me, so that we could communicate,” he gingerly laid it in his mother’s hands and flicked his eyes away again. He wasn’t sure he could trust anyone with the magic Ourania had given him, but… If not his mother, then who?

     “She wields magic,” it wasn’t a question. “And you cannot tell me what she has done, but can you show me?” Loki looked away for a moment, knowing his mother could read his face like a book.

     _I can’t tell her about the Styx. If ever a strong mind-reader came along… Olympus would be ruined. But maybe she can see..._

Loki took the mirror into his hands. Ourania should be training about this time, she was preparing boys for a war.

     _Show me Ourania, likely in Paris._

The mirror swirled images of stars until it found Ourania on Midgard. She was dressed as a poor boy and was teaching the others how to fight with their hands in case their beastly guns failed them. His mother looked on with him.

     Ourania’s hair was up in a cap and she wore pants and was covered in dirt to hide her feminine features. She didn’t have any armor, nor did the others. Just their plainclothes. Loki and Frigga could not hear them, however, and the Queen weaved a small strand of seidr into the mirror to allow them to listen, so they did.

     “You have to watch to make sure you don’t leave your sides unprotected when you throw punches,” Loki knew that she knew Allspeak, and it allowed her to communicate in perfect French with the boys. But as the two watched, they could see a pattern. Occasionally Ourania would allow one of them to get a hit in, likely to not show off her extensive training, but that’s not what caught Frigga’s eye. Loki worried his bottom lip with his teeth as he watched his mother’s reaction.

     A rebel sparring with Ourania landed his knuckles on her cheekbone and another in her gut. She bent over and coughed, but smiled at the man and clapped him on the back.

     “Good work going for the sides, though a fist to the throat does more damage than one to the face,” she smiled and walked away, teaching another, when Frigga had seen enough and looked back at Loki.

     “She cannot be harmed,” she was worried, Loki could tell. Maybe he shouldn’t have told her…

     “No, not by mortal or immortal. Not by fists or swords,” he looked up. “I don’t know why she thinks she needs this power, but I’m worried she’s getting into something she doesn’t understand.”

     Frigga laid a hand on her son’s shoulder, though he wasn’t sure if he could be comforted at the time.

     “We can only hope that she does, and prepare to help her should she need it.” She kissed his brow and left him there.

     _I don’t know what you’re up to, Ourania, but I hope you’ll call on me if you need help._

     Ourania, in fact, could not call on him, though she knew he wished she would.

     Her powers were growing stronger. Overwhelmed would never begin to describe her feelings of being lost in all the information she wielded. The other Muses never bore this burden, and she could not understand why she must.

     She panted as her eyes focused on the stars, needing to confirm she hadn’t imagined the horrors she’d seen before. Her body was strong, though her mind was tired as she spent a night with the French rebels in Paris. She didn’t need to eat or drink much, but she was using so much of her power to keep revisiting what she’d seen and evaluate every detail she encountered.

     It began when Thalia told her about Odin’ plans for her. Her words were substantiated in a dream that Ourania found again through the stars to confirm as true, and not simply musings of her unconscious mind.

     _“My King,” Frigga stood in front of the throne where her husband sat, though they didn’t look like a happy couple in that moment. “You need not force this. He already fancies the young one, do not make it about politics,” she pleaded, though Odin looked less than understanding._

_“It is political!” He boomed, and stood above his wife. “We need this alliance, that was why we approached Zeus in the first place. It becomes only stronger if we get the girl with the powers. She can see if our enemies are acting against us!”_

_“The Jotuns are not our enemies! And Thor is not a puppet!”_

_“Not right now, but our alliance weighs on thin ice, wife. And you know very well that my sons will play the parts they are destined.”_

_“Destined,” Frigga let out a dark chuckle that surprised Ourania. “It is not destiny if you force a young boy to do a job he was never meant for,” she walked calmly until she was face to face with him. “Why can you not let our son grow up and be simply our son? Why is everything political? He’s just a boy!”_

_“He was never just a boy!”_

That was the first dream of the sort. She never knew which son they were talking about, though. Maybe Thor, forcing him to marry and be king, though he obviously seemed too brash and unfocused. Or Loki, though she didn’t understand the part about destiny. It was a foreign concept to her, as she always found ways to change the future if need be.

     Her eyes refocused once more to peer at her surroundings. The men slept around her, safe for the moment.

     _How can destiny be real, when I cannot change anything drastically enough to save these young lives, and they mean nothing in the end._

     She sighed and looked to the stars again, piecing together the next bits of information she’d procured through her searching.

     _Frigga was glad for the alliance with the Jotuns, though her husband came home worse for wear. She rushed from her chambers to find him. News had come that he was back from Jotunheim. She strode into the throne room, and he stood there with…_

_“What is this?” she calmed as she walked to her husband and curled her arms around one of his own. In his arms was a small blanket, with a tiny blue face… “Odin?”_

_“He was abandoned, too small to live,” Frigga teared up and let her fingers drift over his ridged forehead. “We’ll keep him, and perhaps he may be of use to us further on.”_

_Frigga stiffened like she’d been smacked and looked at her husband._

_“You bring a child into my home, and then tell me he is a political pawn?”_

_“Frigga,” he sighed her name and looked back at the baby. “If we need to forge an alliance in the future, we’ll have an Asgardian trained and loyal son with Jotun blood to fight for us, or spy for us. What else could we ask for?”_

_The enraged mother snatched the baby from his arms and curled him close to her chest._

_“We could ask for a son who does not suffer the pressure Thor soon will, and who may grow up feeling loved and a part of this family,” she paused her glare at her husband to weave siedr into the baby, and Ourania’s eyes widened as his blue skin turned peachy and he looked like a regular Asgardian baby. “We will call him Loki, and he is my son. You will not use him,” she swept from the room without glancing back at her husband again, and smiled. Thor always wanted a little brother._

Ourania shuddered on her bedroll, and let her eyes relax for a moment. Loki would not take the news well. Odin taught them from a young age that the Frost Giants were to be feared and killed as beasts. As monsters. She didn’t think she could tell him, though he would be angry when he found out. Blowing out an exasperated sigh at the bullshit she would go through was supremely difficult when trying to not wake the others. She shuffled onto her side and adjusted her chest wrappings. They were so uncomfortable, but she had to _focus._

_Ourania could tell that this one was the future. Loki was older, and perhaps even sadder. He fought on Jotunheim with Thor and his friends, though he did not want to. Loki was not suited for battle, and much preferred magic and knowledge and courtly affairs than battle. However, when they returned to Asgard, Odin entered his Odinsleep and the Jotuns somehow got past Heimdall. She could not see how. It disturbed Ourania, though she searched for a reason, it was hidden from her._

_They attempted to claim the Casket of Ancient Winters, though they were ended swiftly by one of Odin’s giant creations._ The Destroyer, _her mind whispered to her. It was called the Destroyer. But Loki grabbed the casket in the end. And he turned blue. He did not take it very well._

     She was jolted out of her trance by a hand on her shoulder.

     “It’s time to wake. Dawn approaches and so does the army,” a hand pulled her up. She must have spent the entire night looking for clues. She would need her invincibility to help save Loki, she didn’t know how, but she knew. Loki was not Asgardian. Loki was still her best friend. He needed her help. How could she do all of this while still about to be betrothed to Thor?

     Gunshots scattered her thoughts.

     _So, the hunt begins._


	15. Bachelorette Party... Sort Of

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyooo time skip!

1941

Loki: ~1700

Darcy: ~2000

Thor: ~2300

     Loki didn’t contact Ourania for the rest of his childhood. Ashamed as he was for leaving her vulnerable, he knew she would forgive him. That was part of it. She would forgive him in an instant, and he imposed self-punishment since she would no doubt not punish him at all. The other reason was a bit different. Thor and Ourania were both full grown, though they were technically still children in the eyes of Asgardians and Olympians. Loki was almost there, but still slightly smaller. He was most adept at siedr-wielding, but considering he was always head to head with his larger and older brother, things were tense in the palace. He didn’t want to be resentful, because he loved his brother. But if growing up in his shadow was hard enough, it was becoming clearer and clearer that even though they were always taught that they were both meant to be king, Loki seemed to be always forgotten or in Thor’s shadow. But it was hard not to be. He was huge and loud, everyone paid attention to him and he displayed all the traits Asgard would want in a warrior and a ruler, but Loki possessed skills of politics and levelheadedness that Thor would never achieve. It made him angry, but he didn’t dare ask for Ourania’s help. Soon she would be wed to Thor, as they’d officially chosen Ourania days prior and he didn’t want to cause problems.

     Ourania had the opposite feelings. She tried constantly to contact Loki, but her messages went unanswered, and she didn’t dare try and expend so much magic as to make another mirror. Not after last time. She was learning to use her magic, but very few on Olympus used it and she didn’t want to hurt herself with nobody to help her. And while all Loki longed for was to feel equal with his brother and family, Ourania couldn’t get rid of her sisters faster. She felt bad, really, that she only kept in contact with Thalia, but it was getting harder and harder to focus on petty meetings with sisters and family when she could see every second of every possible moment every time she closed her eyes. Her magic used to show her concrete futures, but all she saw now was possibilities. Everything that could happen could be changed until they actually happened. Every time she closed her eyes she saw something else. She dreamt of new moments, she saw them in reflective ponds and every time she looked into the sky.

     But this day... this day Ourania had to face everyone. She’d become a sort of self-imposed outcast for the past several centuries, and hadn’t seen her sisters or father in many years. Only Thalia.

     “Nia, what are you going to say?” Thalia sidled up next to Ourania, who was practically stalking out of her little home and towards a road. It could have been any road. They all led to the palace.

     “Hopefully I'll be saying 'congratulations,' and not 'thank you,'” she grumbled, keeping her eyes pointedly away from the midday sky and looking at the path ahead.

    “I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a thank you. We all know we’re going to be congratulating you, though since you disappeared, we’re all a little more bitter,” the older sister said with a lighthearted chuckle as she demonstrated how little their bitterness was by holding her thumb and forefinger an inch apart.

     “Well either way, one of us is engaged and either way I have to be at the party, so we need to stop at the dressmaker on the way, I had a dress made,” she jerked her head to the right to let her sister know she was welcome to join her.

     “Oh a new dress? I am so excited!”

     “I knew you would be,” Ourania gave her a little smirk, letting a bit of humor show through her perfect concentration of now thinking about the past or future. Time was so… fickle, she decided as they entered the shop. Ever changing. She had to be constantly vigilant.

     “You’re going to be late. Go put it on and then leave!” The tiny seamstress who had been making Ourania’s dresses for over a millennium shoved the princess into a dressing room. It was small, but she’d gotten changed in smaller places. When she emerged, Thalia gasped.

     “This is my favorite [dress](https://images.vingle.net/upload/t_ca_l/we3igj23b7hdfkczrj08.jpg) yet!” She squealed and pulled Ourania outside and back onto the path. “Everyone is going to love it, you’re going to be the best dressed there!” Ourania was happy to agree, it was a work of art. Deep navy blue that barely glittered with the stars on it with a sheer cape draped across her back.

     The announcement was… brief. All the siblings hugged, and when Zeus gave his youngest a stern talking to about avoiding them all for no reason, she shrugged it off and told him she was very distracted with reading the sky. She gave him a tiny idea of how stressed it made her, just telling him that now her dreams were filled with timelines as well, and he backed off a little before clearing his throat.

     “News from Asgard,” all her sisters and other assembled Olympians perked up and quieted. “Prince Thor has chosen one of the Muses to be married to him. King Odin and I have also approved of his decision,” that was likely  said to discourage any resentment, because nobody would cross either king, much less both, “and he has chosen Ourania, protector of the stars.”

     Applause. Cheering. Pats on her shoulder as she walked to her father and he kissed her on her forehead.

     “Please send my thanks,” she whispered, as was traditional. It was an honor, after all.

     Ourania, unsurprisingly, remembered little of the beginning of the party, because her sisters all crowded around her and she looked upward for some air, only to catch sight of the bright blue cloudless sky.

     _Midgard. She was on Midgard. There was a young man. Young, though he appeared not much younger than she, even if he was quite frail. There was no telling what year it was, she couldn’t find any evidence in the room full of people. It wasn’t the past, nobody wore clothes like that. Maybe the future. There was machinery, something the Americans excelled at._

_The young man was being subjected to experiments from what she could tell, he was being injected with a sort of glowing fluid, but she was too overwhelmed with all of the voices and noises of machinery to hear what was actually being said. Just… Screaming. He was screaming. The man in the little metal chamber. Was this like her River Styx experience? What sort of pain was he-_

_Her thoughts scattered as he emerged looking... different-_

Thalia yanked her hair so that her gaze focused on the ground beneath her feet.

     “Keep it together,” came a worried hiss from her right. She glanced over to see Thalia eyeing her.

     “I’m sorry,” her voice felt thick, her face felt tight. Was she losing her grasp on the present? On reality?

 _Get your act together, Princess._ A voice in her head, but this time it wasn’t her own.

     “Loki?” she whispered. Thalia’s forehead creased.

    “What are you talking about? It’s Thor.”

     _Incoming._

     “What?” Ourania barely managed the words. She hadn’t heard from him in so long, what did he-

     A blinding light filled the room and in it’s place stood a beaming Thor. _He looks better than ever,_ she mused to herself. _Stronger, taller, fully grown finally. Was this what Loki was trying to say? Or was it perhaps my mind unconsciously telling me that Thor was about to show up?_

     She let the words (hopefully Loki's words) fill her. She could get her act together, if only for a night. Because, though he was brutish and loud, she never disliked Thor, and if they were to be married, she needed to make a better impression than she was planning on making at this party.

     With that in mind, she sent a silent thank you to Loki, threw her shoulders back and turned to her betrothed with her favorite show stopping smile. It felt like putting on battle armor.

     “Thor! You’ve come at the perfect time!” she sidled up next to him and took his offered arm. “Just in time for the party!” As soon as she said it, the words had the effect she’d hoped they would. The crowd went wild, drinks were poured, music was played, dancing ensued, and it distracted her from her mind. Hopefully she could genuinely enjoy this time with her betrothed.

     _He’s more handsome than ever, and he **chose**_ _me. He isn’t stuck with me like my family, but he **chose** me. _

“Would you care for a drink, Princess?” He was looking down at her, and though she’d seem them before, his eyes seemed even brighter right then.

     “I would love one,” she smiled as he led her to the drinks, though she tugged on his elbow so that he would look down at her. “Though, please call me Ourania,” he smiled from ear to ear.

     “Alright, Ourania, if you would call me Thor?”

     "I had no intentions otherwise,” she was grateful for his booming laugh, and as they wandered around the hall with drinks in hand and shoulder to shoulder, he looked down at her again. “And Ourania,” he said her name like he enjoyed the taste of it rolling of his tongue, “You look beautiful today,” And, she thought, she didn’t mind if he was loud and rambunctious, if he continued to say her name that way and look at her in that manner, it was easy to give him a genuine smile and even blush a little at his words.

     It had been a long time since she’d seen him, but she could make it work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ourania's dress: http://www.vingle.net/posts/1477861?shsrc=v


	16. The After Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> So I'll be laptopless for eight days, but if I have time to use my phone, I'll try to write up a little chapter. Hope you enjoy this one! Just a bit of angst to hold you over.

     Ourania spent the night socializing and dancing and smiling at Thor. And, she had to admit that she did enjoy his attentions. On the other hand, though, the party took a lot out of her and she kept drinking more ambrosia in an effort to put some life back into her. She felt a bit like a flower trying to grow inside a box. There was barely enough air to breathe, certainly not enough space, and no light. She looked around at the party being held for her: people dancing up in everyone else’s space, people having to speak into ears to be heard, and the only light came from candles sporadically placed for dramatic lighting. It fit the flower analogy quite well.

     She sighed later and swirled another drink. Perhaps Thalia had been spiking her ambrosia with spirits, because she was feeling a little lighter on her feet, but also more tired. She wavered a bit when a large hand came to hold her elbow.

     “Are you well Ourania?” Thor stood beside her, unwavering, and steadying her with the hand on her elbow. She nodded, not looking at him. He was acting well here, though all she could remember was the arrogant brat she’d seen before. Maybe this was his public persona? She eyed him a little out of the corner of her eye to see if he was doing anything sneaky while she wasn’t looking, but he only laughed.

     “Why do you look so suspicious?” he laughed again, and while it was nice to see someone laugh openly, it was _sooooo_ loud and in her ear. She rolled her eyes and looked at him fully.

     “I was making sure you were behaving,” she thought maybe bluntness would sober him up a bit, but it only succeeded in making him laugh more. Ourania sighed. She wanted out of this party and she wanted quiet time to read a book and go to bed.

     “Loki told me to be on my best behavior,” she smiled a bit, and looked him over. Would he be willing to leave a party he was sort of hosting?

     “Thor, this party bores me. Come for a walk?” he only looked around and frowned a bit.

     “It bored you?” Ourania sighed again and shrugged.

     “I enjoy parties as much as the next Olympian, but I’m not feeling… well,” she edged around the issue of her sensory overload. She used to love parties, and dancing, and loud music. But with everything going on in her mind, this time was making her fidgety.

     “Are you ill?” her vision was suddenly full of concerned Thor, his eyes scanning over her face as if to detect some malady.

     “No, Thor. If we leave, I can explain, but I will not do so in such a crowded place as this,” she tugged a bit at his elbow, and he followed her out, only looking back and frowning twice, which Ourania thought was pretty good. She expected him to look back the entire way. They reached a little outdoor bench and sat, Thor taking up most of the space and Ourania crossing her legs at the knee and tilting her head up into the air with closed eyes.

     “What ails you?” He prodded.

     She sighed and rolled her neck languidly to look at him, finally opening her eyes when she knew she would be looking at him and not the sky.

     “My powers overwhelm me day and night and being around so many noises and people for so long can irritate me,” she rolled her eyes closed again and sighed. It felt nice to talk to someone who wasn’t her sister for once.

     “I do not understand.” _Typical._

     “I don’t know how to explain it,” she shrugged and rested back again, letting the night breeze cool her dewy forehead.

     “If something ails you, you must tell me. You’re to be my wife.” _Oh, boy._ It’s not like he said it unkindly, but she couldn’t let it go.

     “Being your wife means that I must be by your side and live with you and whatnot, but it does not mean that I have to explain the complexities of my magic,” she deadpanned.

     “Magic?” _Shit. Didn’t mean to say that._

“I meant my powers, excuse my vernacular, but my head is throbbing.” It was an excuse, but it was true.

     “My Lady,” His voice was becoming more gravelly, more agitated. He spoke slowly, as if to a child. “If you are ill, I would see to it that you are healed. You’ve mentioned pains in your head and some kind of magical illness. You should see a healer.” Ourania sighed. She was getting used to sighing at him.

     “They can’t help.”

     “How do you know, stubborn woman?” He raised his voice, and her eyes shot open, thankfully only to see his face.

     “I know because I tried,” she spoke quietly, trying not to let her anger crash over her. “I have seen healers in Olympus, on Midgard, on Asgard, and elsewhere. None can help. The Fates have not answered my pleas for an audience, nor have your Norns. There is no help.”

     “Then you must find some way to deal with this, you must live with it,” he smiled, he thought he was giving her some sort of encouraging speech.

     “Deal with it?” she laughed darkly. “You try and deal with it, Prince Thor,” she spat the words at him and placed both hands on his temples, letting her eyes see the sky and letting him feel everything.

     _Thor could feel every inch of his body, and every fiber of his clothing touching it. It was a brush at first, but with time it pulled at his skin, it itched and it scratched._

_He felt the overwhelming panic of trying not to ever look at the sky, and then the panic of thinking he may never be able to look at the sky again._

_He heard voices. Indistinct at first, and then he heard some of them clearly. They were random conversations, but they would randomly get louder or softer, never letting him get used to the lull of conversations._

_His eyes barely looked up at the sky and suddenly he was swirling into the midnight blue, twinkling space. And then he was on Vanaheim with an elder, or on Midgard with soldiers, on Olympus in the throne room, in Asgard in the stables. He saw things that were, things that are, and things that have not yet come to pass. His eyes reeled at the whirling sights before him, his ears rung with the voices of the many, and his skull rattled._

_He felt everything, he heard everything, he tasted his voice when he spoke, and smelled the starlight. It was beautiful but painful._

Thor ripped his face away from her and Ourania closed her eyes, shutting out the sky. Her eyes were dry, and her ears rung. She showed him everything that she felt. She barely ever felt them all at once, but she was feeling at least one of those things at all times.

     “I… Am sorry,” Thor stumbled over the words, Ourania thought he may never have said them before with a dark chuckle.

     “Don’t tell me what to do, Prince,” she sneered the word. “You do not understand me enough to be my close friend, but we have to become close enough to marry and to be able to trust each other. You were very pleasant at the party, but when alone I find your old arrogance has not left you. It will hinder you in the future,” Ourania stood and looked at her feet, trying not to let herself feel the growing wetness behind her eyelids. “Please, go enjoy the party. I will see you on the morrow. Goodnight, Thor.”

      She left him sitting on the bench. She even felt a little bad about it, but she felt almost numb from expending her magic like that. She needed to sleep.

     She was out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I started a new Darcy fic! Here's the link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11394549/chapters/25518681


	17. Spy or Nah

     With the engagement official, and the celebrations concluded after several days, there was nothing stopping Ourania and Thor from marrying, but she found every way she could to postpone it. Sure, she could say that she wanted to weed out the prince’s true intentions in wedding her, but she knew she was just shying away from seeing Thor after she left him at the party. It had been a week, and she fled to Midgard, this time without her guise of a scientist.

     Her glimpses of the stars in those recent days continuously brought her to one specific man, Steven Rogers. She’d never felt such a pull to one specific person or event as she did this, and she followed the thread as a front-lines nurse. Spying on Captain America from afar was something the nurses did a lot, and something they constantly gossiped about to each other. That was how Ourania found herself caring for the Howling Commandos.

     She wasn’t technically a medic on Olympus, nor did she have any medical training, but her and her sisters got roughed up a lot as children, and she knew a few tricks. Getting in wasn’t the problem, it was finding Rogers. With her thoughts drifting away from Thor and focusing on patching up soldiers, she formed a bit of a routine.

     Every day she would wake up early and get ready, check on overnight patients, check to see if anyone came in while she was out, and all the while listen for gossip.

     A week after she came to Midgard, she’d attended to every one of the Commandos except for Rogers. He was definitely the man from the vision she had so long ago, she’d seen enough glimpses of him to know that, but he never seemed to need medical assistance. It seemed that machine he was in really was like the Styx: he couldn’t be harmed. He would come through every so often to raise the men’s spirits, but never for longer than a few minutes. It was going to be harder to find out what was drawing her to this place and time.

     “Motherfucking bandage won’t fucking stay,” she mumbled under her breath as she tried in vain to secure a wrap around Dugan’s bicep. It was just a cut, but risk of infection was high here. He chuckled at her words, apparently women didn’t swear much here, and the men thought it amusing when she did. _They’d be shocked speechless if they ever went to Olympus_ , she thought. Sure, they were more civilized in many ways, but they were sexually liberated and they also said whatever they felt like in most situations. Spending time in the army gave her a few good curses, though. Loki would be proud though.

     She sighed. _Loki would hate this place. So uncivilized, so dirty. I’m not so fond of it, either._ Dugan caught her rolling her eyes as she finally got him fixed up, and flashed her a smile before heading back out. Ourania didn’t know what to do. She sat on a cot and planned.

     _How can I talk to Steven? What would I even say to him? I don’t know anything about this place…._ She sighed again. She should have come more prepared. Just as she was resigning herself to do more bandaging, the Captain himself walked in with his sniper, James… Or Bucky? Ourania didn’t care much for the little details.

     She tried to look like she was busy instead of sitting on a cot, and smirked at the two complaining about weaponry.

     “We need more ammunition,” That was Barnes.

     “I don’t know what to tell you, Buck. We’re out of stock-”

     “It’s the army, Steve. You don’t just run out of bullets, you buy more in advance,” Barnes huffed as they came closer.

     “Well they did, it’s just taking a while to get here,” Steven sighed, and Ourania saw her chance to at least get a conversation in.

     “It’s because Mercury is in retrograde,” she piped up, turning around while smoothing down her uniform and looking the men over. Barned raised an eyebrow at her with a half-smile, and Steven cocked his head to the side.

     “What was that?” Barned again, coming closer and standing across from her.

     “The planet. Mercury. It’s in retrograde. It slows large packages from reaching their destination. You’ll probably get your ammunition in the next day or so,” she shrugged and gave them a dazed smile. Best to seem like she knew less than she did.

     “I’m sorry, ma’am. Those things don’t make sense,” at Rogers’ words she dropped the smile and rolled her eyes.

     “I’m just saying,” she flipped her hair over her shoulder and eyes him up. “I wouldn’t be surprised if everything you need is here on the morrow,” her jaw clenched as she walked away from them. Why was she so drawn here? She didn’t want to… But she needed answers. She walked outside the medic tent and looked at the evening sky.

     _It was Steven, but in a different place. He wore the same uniform but he fought alongside Thor…_

    Thor?! She gasped and jerked back so hard she lost sight of the sky. How did the two know each other? Could it have been a glimpse of the future? Ourania went to look back at the sky when Barnes called out her pseudonym from behind her.

     “Nancy!” She turned, and the brunette was standing in front of her. She could appreciate him his physique, his voice, but he had nothing on Thor. And he was only mortal. He smiled at her… _It’s not a crime if I just look at him…_ She returned the gesture.

     “What can I do for you Sergeant Barnes?” Keeping her eyes on his, and not the darkening sky behind him, was taxing, and she could feel her eyes drying and tiring out.

     “Just heard you make a noise, making sure you were alright,” that charming smile was coming out in full force and she gave him a soft smile.

     “Just thought of something surprising, nothing to worry about. I should really get to bed sergeant,” she started walking away, and caught a glimpse of his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, only to turn around and accidentally get a clear view of the sky.

      _Ourania stood in complete blackness, nothing like she’d ever experienced before. It wasn’t even black. It was the complete lack of color. There was nothing. She turned, frantically looking for Barnes, Rogers, anyone. They didn’t know that she could get lost. Where was her body?_

_Her ears were searching for any noise, but there was nothing to listen to._

_Suddenly there was light. Blinding. White. Painful. Ourania went to shield her eyes but found she lacked a corporeal form. She couldn’t look away. Images flittered by her like a film reel, but almost too fast to see._

_First, she saw Rogers and Barnes fighting next to each other in the snow._

_Then Thor, in a desert._

_Loki falling through space._

_Herself, but different. Who is that?_

_The images went faster and faster until their collective sounds and images blurred into a blinding, deafening mass of sensation. But she couldn’t look away._

_Nancy. That was her fake name._

_Nancy…_

Nancy.

     “Nancy!” Shaking. She focused her eyes. It was Barnes’ face, not the sky. Oh, Gods. What had he seen? If he was touching her, he might have seen…

     “Barnes! Stop shaking me!” She shouted at him and backed away. Gods what was happening to her? She couldn’t even look at the sky. She couldn’t look at anything near it, and focused on Barnes’ feet instead.

     “What the hell was that? Your eyes…” She couldn’t resist, she went to look at his face to gauge his reaction but Rogers ran over after the shouting.

     “What’s going on?” The Captain America Voice was in full force

     “Nothing. Just zoned out,” she mumbled. With a hard glare at Barnes to warn him off telling Rogers what she saw, she turned to walk away.

     “I don’t know, Stevie. I don’t know,” she heard over her shoulder as she ran away.

     It was days before she even let either of them approach her. When they were in a room, she wasn’t. When the Commandos came back from a mission, she busied herself with work. When Rogers came to apologize when the ammunition came the very next day, she scuttled. But she was growing anxious, and needed activity. Sliding her eyes around the room, she searched for a candidate. Ah. Falsworth. He was skilled in hand to hand combat. Ourania couldn’t help the smirk that curled as she formed her plan.

     She slid over to him with a clipboard.

     “You in here for a reason, soldier?” She smiled softly at him and fluttered her eyelashes a little.

     “I’m just checking in on the others,” a polite smile was all she got.

     “That’s awfully kind of you,” Ourania bit her lip and looked away shyly. Nancy was a southern belle. She was demure.

     “We’re a team,” she looked up and caught him smiling fondly.

     “I was wondering…” Ourania twirled her pencil in her hair and looked up at him again. “It’s pretty dangerous around here, I’ve never been in a war you know.” His face turned more serious.

     “You ladies aren’t in any danger, even when we’re on missions, some of us will always be here,” his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

     “I know, but I was wondering if you could teach me just a few self-defense moves? So if some trouble comes a callin I could run?” She pouted a little, she wanted to look a little scared, innocent. He smiled a little and chuckled.

    “Alright, just one or two, and then you’ll be able to run, alright?” She nodded enthusiastically and pulled him out to the back of the tent and pulled off her hat and apron. When he turned to her his eyes widened like saucers. She’d changed her clothes immediately to more comfortable fighting pants and a shirt.

     “I’m not gonna lie to you, Falsworth. I’ve been sedentary too long, and I’m getting behind on my training. I didn’t bring you back here to do self-defense, I want you to spar with me. Whaddaya say?” She threw her dazzling smile at him and hoped for the best.


	18. Don't You Forget About Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time skip in the middle! It's only a little, like ~70 years, but Thor will be full grown, Ourania will be mostly full grown, just a little younger, and Loki is like so close to being full grown but not really. Ages are basically the same as before, but they don't age now, so just. How they look in Thor 1.   
> Also, while I'm pretty technically following the Thor story line, it's a little AU, so don't worry about everything being accurate.  
> Also, fun stuff, two dresses in this chapter! Yay for pretty stuff.

     Falsworth’s demeanor changed instantly, and he took on a fighting stance, though he didn’t look like he wanted to spar.

     “Are you a spy?” he whipped the words at her and she rolled her eyes with hands on hips.

     “Of course I’m not a spy, but I don’t see you believing me,” Ourania mirrored his stance. “So, are we going to fight?” _Even if he thinks I’m a spy, he’ll still fight me, and I’ll still get practice in._

     “I don’t want to fight you, Nancy,” his hard stare faltered and he went to lower his hands.

     “What if I told you my name isn’t Nancy?”

     “So, you are a spy?” The hard glare was back.

     “Nope, but I’m certainly not a nurse,” she sent him a sharp smile and approached him with light feet. She was excited to be fighting an opponent closer to her size. It made her think of sparring with Thalia. Falsworth narrowed his eyes and circled so that he was between Ourania and the medic tent. _Smart man, protect the women_.

     Ourania knew he wouldn’t initiate a fight with her, not while he thought she still might be just a girl. She had to make the first move. She threw a punch that he easily blocked, and continued throwing easy hits and dodging his own blows. It had been several minutes of warm up, and Ourania decided to step it up a notch. She spun and kicked up at his jaw and followed up with her elbow when he dodged the foot. He wasn’t so lucky with the elbow and stumbled back with a hand to his jaw.

     “Who are you?” he spat out a bit of blood and threw himself at her and Ourania was forced to take the defensive, dodging and blocking until she grew bored again.

     “Falsworth I’m bored. Try harder,” she groaned and rolled her eyes at him before launching herself at him with a flurry of kicks and punches. He really was a hand to hand expert, and Ourania found herself enjoying the physical exercise. It was only when Falsworth drew a knife from his pants that she realized he still thought she was an enemy. Whoops.

     It was also that moment when the Captain and his best bud came out the back of the tent and froze at the scene in front of them. Ourania landed a kick to her opponent’s chest, but he came back and slashed his knife along her exposed stomach. She paused and looked at him, also frozen.

     “You actually knifed me!” She exclaimed with wide eyes, but his were glued on her stomach, and its suspicious lack of blood. “What the fuck! Who do you think you are?” Ourania sucker punched the bastard and threw a left hook to knock him out after that dumb move. As soon as he hit the ground, the two spectators flew into motion.

     “Who are you?”

     “Why aren’t you bleeding?” Came from Rogers and Barnes respectively, though Barnes sounded more confused, and Rogers much darker. He had the Captain America voice on.

     “Look, I just asked Falsworth to spar with me, and he immediately thought I was a spy. It’s not my fault I grew up learning to fight,” Ourania shrugged and tried to look more bashful. Blushing, pulling on a few strands of her dark hair, batting her eyelashes. The works. “I just wanted to practice,” she pouted and let her eyes fill up a little. It did the trick. Rogers, likely uncomfortable with crying women, stammered his way out and carried his comrade back into medical. Barnes just raised an eyebrow at her and crossed his arms over his chest.

     “What’s going on?”

     “I just told you,” Ourania tossed her hair over her shoulder and smiled brightly at him, but he wouldn’t be distracted, not after everything weird that had happened with her in the past few days.

     “I know you’re lying. Who are you?” Ourania was glad that he sounded more exasperated than angry. She could probably just play this off… But Falsworth knew she wasn’t Nancy, and she didn’t know how to make people forget things. So, in typical Ourania fashion, went for the most dramatic option.

     She let her mortal glamour fade away. It wasn’t making her look that different, it just hid the healthy glow she always carried, since most humans of this era were easily sickened. Her eyes brightened, her skin glowed, and her hair shined. She materialized her staff and globe in her hands, and allowed the [dress](https://hips.hearstapps.com/ell.h-cdn.co/assets/cm/15/03/640x959/54b3d461329c5_-_rs12-ferragamo-1-031-xln.jpg?resize=980:*) she was wearing before her trip to Midgard to appear back on her body along with her tiara.

     “My name is Ourania. I’ve come to this place because the Fates have been trying to tell me something, though all I know is it has something to do with your Steven Rogers,” she spoke clearly and with conviction. She didn’t get to have fun very often, and pulling Barnes’ chain was giving her much more amusement than she thought it would. He looked so very perplexed, it made her heart sing. It was clear he didn’t know how to respond to what was happening. “I’ve blown my cover, and must leave, but you will see me again,” that she knew. She’d been seeing more glimpses of Rogers and Barnes in her dreams. They were somehow important in her future.

     With that, she melted into a shadow to travel back to Olympus.

     When she arrived back in her home she burst out laughing. She forgot how fun mischief was… Speaking of… Ourania used a little bit of magic to connect her mind to the mirror she gave to Loki, hopefully alerting him that she was there. She had no way of knowing, but…

     “Loki, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m back on Olympus. I’ve kind of been avoiding Thor but…” she shrugged. “I miss you, and I could use your advice on this,” with that she sighed and went about cleaning her house up again. She’d forgotten how lonely Olympus was while she was on Midgard. She always had the other nurses with her, or a bantering soldier to amuse her. Here she had herself, and sometimes Thalia. It was a cold existence.

     Over the next short years, Ourania developed her magic skills more, and she kept in touch with Loki, sometimes going on adventures, other times finding elaborate schemes to avoid Thor for just a little bit longer. She just couldn’t face him yet. She spent a lot of time searching the stars and trying to ascertain his intentions for her. She couldn’t tell if it was all scheming for her powers, or if he fancied her. She knew she had to marry him as soon as he was crowned king either way, but she would be a happy wife if she knew he was interested in her, and if he could stop being so cocky all the time. She just didn’t know.

     This brought Ourania to Asgard almost seventy years later. Thor was officially being crowned, and she wouldn’t be able to postpone the wedding any longer. She was nervous though, and had a terrible feeling that the coronation would not go well. She’d been having the same dreams about Loki becoming vengeful and Odin entering the Odinsleep. She wasn’t sure in which order all of the events would occur, but she was sure they would be happening soon.

     Be that as it may, Ourania held in her discomfort and stood in Asgard’s great hall next to Loki in what had to be her absolute favorite [gown](https://70d1f83501d7e624b894-53d282187eea13d17c9069e91e3ede51.ssl.cf2.rackcdn.com/product-hugerect-938758-314917-1489825246-1873cbf56871254fa8ef17c87e651a40.jpg) yet. They just kept getting better. Loki looked a little glum, but that was to be expected. However, they both got a little chuckle with Thor’s extravagant entrance. He was so cocky, but he looked good doing it, and Ourania wouldn’t be ashamed for eyeing him up the entire time he approached.

     It was a quick affair. Thor swore his loyalty to the realm and it was all very dramatic, but Ourania’s bad feelings kept nagging at her. She furrowed her brows to alleviate some of the pressure in her head, but nothing was working.

     “What’s going on?” Loki whispered, looking at her in concern.

     “Something’s wrong, Loki,” she looked into his eyes and hoped her concern shone through. Something was terribly wrong.

     “And on this day, I, Odin, Allfather, proclaim you,” he paused, and Ourania whipped her head around to lock eyes with her future father in law. He must have known, too. Thor’s smile fell at his father’s next words: “Frost giants.”

     The room erupted into chaos as Odin, Thor, and Loki (grabbing Ourania’s hand and dragging her along) stormed through the palace. Odin led them into a secure chamber where several Jotuns were left decimated. _That would be the work of the Destroyer that Loki told me about_. She nodded. Yes, this was the work of the Destroyer.

     “The Jotuns must pay for what they’ve done,” Thor’s voice was darker than she’d ever heard it, and she worried at her lip with her teeth, and pulled her hand from Loki’s to place it on her betrothed’s shoulder. She didn’t know how to calm him.

     “They have payed, with their lives,” Odin was quiet, and stood in front of the Cask of Ancient Winters. Ourania had seen it in a dream, but it slipped away from her now. She couldn’t remember why it was important. “The Destroyer did its work, the Casket is safe, and all is well.”

     “All is well?” Thor raised his voice and shook off her hand. “They broke into the weapons vault. If the frost giants had stolen even one of these relics-“ Odin quietly interrupted his brash son.

     “They didn’t.”

     “Well I want to know why,” Thor was raising his voice even louder and Loki shot her a look as if to say ‘you tell him to calm down, I’m not going to marry him.’ She rolled her eyes and firmly pressed her hand into his shoulder.

     “Thor, have care how you speak,” she murmured. For a moment, his eyes softened, that is, until his father spoke again.

     “I have a truce with Laufey, king of the Jotuns.”

     “He just broke your truce! They know you are vulnerable,” Thor stepped closer to his father, and Ourania stepped back to Loki’s side. They watched back and forth as the two got more agitated until Odin shouted at Thor: “But you’re not king! Not yet.” And left the three in silence.

     Thor, angered and mortified left the vault, leaving Loki and Ourania alone.

     “I think it’s best you go after him,” Ourania breathed the words, not wanting to disturb the space with more shouting. Not when the Casket gave her such ill feelings.

     “I know you’re right, but I don’t know what advice to give him,” Loki looked unsure for once, but Ourania hushed him and led him out to go find Thor while she went to her room to collect herself. She was only alone a few minutes when she heard that whisper in her head again. It was like at her engagement party, Loki was somehow communicating with her.

     _Nia. Thor is insisting on going to Jotunheim. Tell father. **Now**!_

     Within moments she’d shadow travelled to the Allfather and explained what she knew. Thor, the Warriors Three, and Loki were heading to Jotunheim, and the youngest asked her to tell him so that he may prevent something bad from happening.

     “Thank you,” and with that, he stood and left, leaving Ourania alone again for the second time that day.

     It was hours before she saw another person, and she spent it all looking for that memory.

     The Casket. What did it mean? What couldn’t she remember? She was interrupted by a frantic Loki bursting into her room, eyes wild and panting.

     “Ourania, you need to _LEAVE_.” Her head started pounding and when she tried to stand, the pulsing increased.

     “What… What’s going on?” She groaned, holding her head.

     “Thor was banished, and you’re his betrothed. I don’t want you in trouble. You need to go. Get up. Now!” He dragged her out of bed and started pulling her down the halls.

     “Loki,” she couldn’t focus. It was time. She pulled him in a different direction, towards the weapons vault.

     “Ourania,” he gritted out, but couldn’t break her suddenly invincible grip. She stood with him inside the entrance, and let go of him, but the work was done. He was remembering the Jotun touching him in the battle and not feeling a burn. Walking towards the casket felt like moving in slow motion. Ourania could vaguely hear Odin entering the room behind her, and shouting something, but the work was done. Loki knew, and suddenly everything came back to her.

     _Frigga and Odin taking care to make sure nobody ever knew who or what Loki was._

_Him never living up to Thor’s image._

_Odin treating him as if he wasn’t as important._

_A blue baby, alone in the cold._

     Loki’s hurt eyes looked back at his father, and then focused on her dazed ones behind him.

     “Nia,” his voice cracked and Odin cast a withering glance her way and turned to storm towards her.

     “What have you done?” He growled, and Ourania looked up at him to face her fate when a wave of green seidr burst from behind him and swallowed her whole.


End file.
